The Bucket 'Blog

Box Office Predictions: Weekend of 10/1

2010-09-30T16:58:00.001-07:00

After taking a week off from writing the full-length version of this column due to a rigorous week of midterms at school--thank God that's over--I'm back and ready to offer up analysis and comparisons on this week's releases. However, it's unfortunate for my reputation that I didn't completely check out last Friday, instead still offering my customary prediction of what the top 10 would look like... which I totally flubbed, over-inflating the potential of all three major releases. It wasn't hard to see why they didn't do as well as I had guessed once I saw them, though -- talk about bad movies. Wall Street 2 was the best of the bunch, but even that was mediocre at best. You Again and Legend of the Guardians were painful to sit through, as if they had been left over from August.

This weekend, on the other hand, brings us two critically acclaimed films: Aaron Sorkin and David Fincher's take on the origin-story of Facebook, The Social Network, and Matt Reeves' update of the Swedish vampire movie Let the Right One in, Amerisimplified to just Let Me In. Even if they turn out to be box-office duds--unlikely in the case of the former--they at least promise to offer enriching moviegoing experiences. But if they're not your thing--meaning you're intellectually void--then there's always Case 39, a horror flick starring real-life couple Renee Zellweger and Bradley Cooper that has been sitting on the shelf for ages. Or some Nikki Reed movie called Chain Letter that's surprisingly opening on over 400 screens.

I think The Social Network will be huge. With the best reviews of any movie all year (it's currently 98%-fresh with an average rating of 9.4/10 on Rotten Tomatoes), a built-in audience of Facebook addicts, and a distributor that is seemingly invincible this year (Sony), it's hard to see the movie underperforming. The real question is: how high is its ceiling? Most predictions have it at around $25 million, which I think errs way conservative. In fact, I think there's a great comparison that performed much better than that, and it may surprise some: Superbad.

Even though their genres are different, both movies carry natural appeal for almost every 17-to-25-year-old male and are able to expand their potential audience widely due to critical praise and word-of-mouth. Sure, Superbad demanded more immediate viewing because people wanted to see it with an enthusiastic crowd on opening night, avoiding any potential of having the jokes spoiled for them, but The Social Network boasts a PG-13 rating to counterbalance this. There are lots of 13-16 year-olds who use Facebook and who are, I'm sure, interested in how it came to be, while many in this age-group were barred from Superbad due to its R-rating. Facebook user = potential viewer, as far as I'm concerned. We could definitely see The Social Network perform as well as the aforementioned Judd Apatow-produced comedy hit, repeating its opening of $33.1 million.

Let Me In is tougher to predict. While it is technically a horror film and features a vampire, the material doesn't easily fit inside the mold of either genre and, hence, it may have a hard time attracting their built-in audiences. Likewise, while the 2008 original has become relatively popular for a foreign film in America, many of its fans might not want to see this remake, calling it "too soon" or a "rip-off." Then there's the matter of the distributor (Overture), which isn't exactly a big name and has only secured 2,020 theaters. However, in fairness, they did release this year's zombie remake The Crazies with great success and, as is the case with this movie, no big stars. (Has Chloe Moretz ascended to Timothy Olyphant-level fame with the popularity of Hit Girl?) Also boding well for Let Me In is the fact that it has damn good reviews, which should mean equally good word-of-mouth.

Frankly, it's tough to find good comparisons for Let Me In because it's pretty unique. My best bet is last year's Orphan, which was similarly R-rated and more cerebral than the usual Friday night horror film. That WB release played in over 700 more theaters, however, so its $12.6m opening might be a little high. But maybe not by much, as I could see Let Me In's rumored artistic excellence boosting it to around $11.4 million.

Then there's Case 39, which is, yes, a Paramount Vantage title. (Who were they again?) I was going to comment that its best chance at success would be kids buying tickets for it as their way to sneak into Let Me In, but then I realized it's R-rated as well. What a dump job! With bad reviews and uninspired marketing, this probably would have been better off going straight to video. (Ironically, it is already available on DVD in Europe, from where I ordered the copy that I will be watching tonight.) So who will go see Case 39? Fans of "dumb" horror? Older women who like Renee Zellweger but don't know what the movie's about? Beats me. Sparing it the embarrassment of a sub-$2,000 per theater average, I'll predict the movie manages to rake in $4.6 million.

Then there's Chain Letter, which I hadn't even heard of until showtimes were posted for the week. Somehow, first-time micro-distributor New Films Cinema has secured 401 playdates for this Nikki Reed (Twilight, Thirteen) vehicle. Even better yet: it's another R-rated horror film! While New Films Cinema probably chose the date because it was the only time they could get so many screens, it wasn't exactly a smart first business decision. Will Reed's Twilight fans show up to save the movie from a PTA worse than The Black Waters of Echo's Pond's measly $555 earlier this year? Given most of them are probably underage and Chain Letter faces so much R-rated horror competition, I doubt it. I reckon it'll only manage about $215,000 for the whole weekend.

My prediction of what the full top 10 will look like:

1. The Social Network ... $33.1m ($11,945 PTA)

2. Let Me In ... $11.4m ($5,644 PTA)

3. The Town ... $10.1m ($3,441 PTA) -35.3%

4. Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps ... $10.1m ($2,808 PTA) -46.9%

5. Legend of the Guardians ... $10.0m ($2,797 PTA) -37.9%

6. Easy A ... $6.4m ($2,152 PTA) -39.6%

7. You Again ... $4.7m ($1,845 PTA) -44.1%

8. Case 39 ... $4.6m ($2,081 PTA)

9. Devil ... $3.0m ($1,250 PTA) -54.6%

10. Alpha and Omega ... $2.6m ($1,129 PTA) -45.1%

(Note that Legend of the Guardians and You Again should come out a bit higher than their "real" grosses, as sneak preview revenue for Life As We Know it and Secretariat, respectively, will likely be applied to their tallies. Hollywood works in mysterious ways.)

Box Office Predictions: Weekend of 9/24

2010-09-24T10:19:00.000-07:00

The site is backed up this week and I view this column as the most expendable feature, so I'm just going to post my raw predictions without any analysis. But not before I brag about last weekend's predictions, which were pretty darn accurate, and would have been even more so had Exhibitor Relations' Saturday morning weekend projections held. Fear not, however -- I'll be back with the whole enchilada next week. For now...

My prediction of what the top 10 will look like:

1. Wall Street 2: Money Never Sleeps ... $26.8m ($7,518 PTA)

2. Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga'Hoole ... $20.5m ($5,734 PTA)

3. You Again ... $14.0m ($5,495 PTA)

4. The Town ... $12.4m ($4,298 PTA) -47.9%

5. Easy A ... $10.3m ($3,606 PTA) -41.9%

6. Alpha and Omega ... $5.5 ($2,095 PTA) -39.6%

7. Devil ... $4.8m ($1,708 PTA) -60.9%

8. Resident Evil: Afterlife ... $4.8m ($1,817 PTA) -52.0%

9. Takers ... $1.6m ($1,312 PTA) -47.1%

10. The American ... $1.3m ($989 PTA) -51.4%

I think Wall Street 2 will be pretty close to that number, with Gran Torino's $29.5m as its ultimate ceiling. Legend of the Guardians could very well surprise and do better than $20.5m, but it's a risky proposition with the Australian cast and the paradox of scary-but-kiddy owls. I'm giving You Again an edge on other prognosticators' predictions because I think Jamie Lee Curtis and Betty White are pretty big selling points for older women, meaning it'll have a slight uptick on similar pictures like lead Kristen Bell's When in Rome and Disney's previous adult-skewing family film Dan in Real Life. If my guesses hold, it'll be a pretty successful weekend on the whole... though WB will probably have a ways to go in paying for all those CGI creatures.

Box Office Predictions: Weekend of 9/17

2010-09-17T09:17:00.001-07:00

Now that we're done with all that Resident Evil nonsense, we can get on with an actually interesting weekend. (That's not an excuse for my high-balled prediction last Thursday, just a general statement that the box office field was painfully uninteresting.) This weekend, the movie getting all the commercial buzz is Easy A, a potential breakout for both up-and-comer Emma Stone and for the seemingly invincible Sony. Easy A has great reviews, but its R-rated, adult-targeted competitor, Ben Affleck's The Town, is meanwhile sucking up all the critical buzz. Not screened for critics but also expected to do well is Devil, a PG-13 horror film produced by M. Night Shyamalan. And likely to tank and finish last among the openers is the 3D animated flick with the voices of Justin Long and Hayden Panettiere, Alpha and Omega.

While Easy A seems to be the consensus' choice for #1 this weekend, I'm going to venture out on a limb and say The Town will champion. With good reviews to bring in the 35+ crowd, a stellar ad campaign that appeals to young males, a cast of desirable men who women won't mind watching, and region-centric material that the East Coast (especially New England) will be drawn to, Warner Bros have got themselves the complete package. Yeah, it's R-rated, but all the teenyboppers were planning on going to Easy A or Devil anyway. And yes, Ben Affleck's first film, Gone Baby Gone, also set in a lower-class Boston neighborhood, only opened to $5.5m, but that was Oscar bait with a different release strategy and far more limited appeal.

The best box office comparisons for The Town are The Departed, Mystic River, and Fever Pitch (no, that isn't a misprint), all set in Boston. The first also opened in the early fall to a stellar $28.9m in 2006, $30.7m when adjusted for inflation. Of course, I don't think anyone's under the impression that The Town could pull those numbers, because Affleck, Jon Hamm, and Jeremy Renner aren't Matt Damon, Jack Nicholson, and Leo DiCaprio as far as star power is concerned. Nor are they Sean Penn, Tim Robbins, and Kevin Bacon, but Mystic River, which grossed over $90m total, is further proof that these adult-oriented, East Coast crime-dramas have immense appeal. (That Clint Eastwood film only opened to around $10m, but its release strategy was different and its theater count was much lower, meaning if one were to directly compare it, one would have to account for increased front-loading for The Town.) Lastly, Fever Pitch ($12.4m, $13.5m adjusted for inflation) is a good comparison because it represents a well-reviewed, broadly appealing movie within its genre, but also one that's region-specific to Boston. As was the case with that Red Sox fan love-story, sometimes such a focus on setting can be alienating to those in other parts of the countries. Also, I think Affleck/Hamm/Renner are more synonymous to Fallon/Barrymore in terms of draw. As a result, I think the ideal prediction is an average of The Departed and Fever Pitch, meaning The Town opens to an exceptional $22.1 million.

Similarly, I think Easy A's number is best predicted by averaging those of two similarpictures. Those saying the movie will break out are comparing it to Mean Girls, which pulled an incredibly strong $24.4m opening back in 2004, $27.5m adjusted for inflation. There are a lot of similarities, especially the great reviews. Because of all the favorable word-of-mouth, this is the type of movie that not only teen girls will want to see; their moms may want to take them as well. That expands the audience considerably. However, Lindsay Lohan was already an established draw when Mean Girls came out; Emma Stone is just now becoming one. So that could lose some potential viewers. More pessimistically, one could equate Easy A with She's The Man, which starred Amanda Bynes, who's also in the supporting cast here. While that film didn't have as good of reviews, it was similarly high-concept (a modern Shakespeare adaptation) and was more equatable to Easy A in terms of its commercial prospects. It opened to $10.7m back in 2006, $11.4m adjusted for inflation. Thus, it seems logical to average Mean Girls and She's the Man, which would give Easy A a terrific $19.5 million opening, extending Sony's box office streak.

How well Devil does seems largely dependent on which member of teenage couples is choosing the movie: the girl or the boy. If she gets to decide more times than not, then we could see a rise in the aforementioned Easy A number. But if traditional gender stereotypes prevail and the guy picks, then look out for this cheap horror film. It is the iffiest opening of the weekend in my book, but it definitely has the potential to do well if it grabs enough under-25s, who are sure to make up over 75% of its audience. (If anybody over 25 was considering seeing it, then they were probably turned off by executive producer M. Night Shyamalan's widely advertised attachment to the project.) Some obvious teen-horror comparisons are The Unborn ($19.8m last year) and When a Stranger Calls ($21.6m in 2006, $23.0m inflated). That'd be $21.4m if we played the averages game, but that's not going to work in this case because Easy A will surely take away some of the teens who would've gone to see this on another weekend. How much that'll hurt Devil is anybody's guess; I'm going to say it opens to $16 million.

Then there's Alpha and Omega, which has poor reviews and isn't on anybody's radar except maybe that of the parents of young children. It's distributed by Lionsgate, who doesn't have much of a history releasing kiddie flicks. A good comparison would be their 2007 foray into the genre, Happily N'Ever After, which opened to $6.6m ($6.8m inflated) with a similar theater count. Another would be Summit Entertainment's third-tier animated film Astro Boy, which did a similar $6.7m last year. That averages out, of course, to an opening of $6.75m, which works out nicely because, with an average admission price $6.75--figuring a lot of child tickets--it implies about 1 million tickets sold. The reason this needs to be calculated is Alpha and Omega is being shown in 3D at many theaters, meaning the impact of the surcharge needs to be factored in. I think about 55% of tickets will be 3D, a little less than this summer's Despicable Me. When one does the ensuing math, it suggests Alpha and Omega will open to about $8.1 million this weekend.

So there it is, a high-grossing four way battle. If the top three are able to pull the kinds of numbers I've predicted, then this will be one profitable September weekend.

My prediction of what the full top 10 will look like:

1. The Town ... $22.1m ($7,725 PTA)

2. Easy A ... $19.5m ($6,828 PTA)

3. Devil ... $16.0m ($5,694 PTA)

4. Resident Evil: Afterlife ... $9.4m ($2,929 PTA) -64.7%

5. Alpha and Omega ... $8.1m ($3,086 PTA)

6. The American ... $3.5m ($1,425 PTA) -38.3%

7. Takers ... $3.4m ($1,590 PTA) -40.0%

8. Going the Distance ... $2.1m ($1,046 PTA) -44.6%

9. The Other Guys ... $2.0m ($1,095 PTA) -40.3%

10. Inception ... $1.7m ($1,303 PTA) -39.3%

Review: Resident Evil: Afterlife (2010) - 1 1/2 Buckets

2010-09-11T17:25:00.000-07:00

I feel like I should just copy and paste my review of any one of the other three Resident Evil movies because, folks, I know it’s shocking, but Afterlife represents more of the same. Franchise producer Paul W.S. Anderson may return to the director’s chair after being absent for two pictures, but the incoherent story, the abundance of clunky action, and the basic players are all still present. Basically, we get a video game adaptation that forgets the adapting part of the equation, the equivalent of watching two friends play the source material for 95 minutes without a controller of one’s own. Oh, and in case you weren’t already working up a headache, this time everything’s in 3D.

But I actually shouldn’t be so harsh. Unlike its immediate predecessor—which I only remember as being completely worthless because I paged back and saw I gave it a zero-bucket review—Afterlife is not agonizingly painful. There’s a pretty cool action sequence towards the end in which the characters escape zombies – probably the best thing Anderson has ever constructed as a filmmaker. That’s a whole 15 minutes of solid fun. Not to mention, Milla Jovovich and especially a brunette Ali Larter are hot as ever. (Yes, the world has ended and society has crumbled, but plenty of makeup and hair products are still readily available.) Given what I’ve been conditioned to expect from this franchise, I was more than happy for these small favors.

If the first three films failed to leave any kind of an imprint on your brain other than that they weren’t very good, then, like myself, you’re probably in the majority. This means that Resident Evil: Afterlife’s first 15 minutes won’t make a lick of sense to you, but then again, does anything else in the movie? The first sequence begins as Alice (Jovoich) raids the evil Umbrella Corporation with an army of clones, squaring off against bad guy Albert Wesker (Shawn Roberts), and ends with her jumping from an exploding helicopter after regaining her humanity from Wesker… or something like that. Then she jets a personal plane to Arcadia, Alaska, a supposed zombie-free refuge location she planned on escaping to with her compadres in the last movie. Turns out Arcadia isn’t much of a paradise; in fact, it’s uninhabited except for a disoriented Claire Redfield (Larter), one of said compadres.

So Alice does what common wisdom tells any survivor of the zombie apocalypse to do: head south. Amidst the rubble of downtown Los Angeles, she and the now lucid Claire spot a group of survivors taking shelter in a prison, a wealth of flesh-hungry zombies lurking outside the gates. These survivors inform the Alice that Arcadia is not a city, but a ship they can see in the distance. (This revelation is so corny I half expected them to tell her she actually got the wrong Arcadia, meaning the real zombie safe-haven is the suburb of L.A.’s San Gabriel Valley, not the one in Alaska.) With that, the movie’s thin plot comes to fruition. Once again, it’s time for our heroes to kick some zombie butt so they can reach a momentary oasis before the next sequel, in which they will inevitably do the same thing all over again.

Among the new team, the only interesting member is Chris (Wentworth Miller), who was found locked up in the prison. The others err on the side of caution and keep him in his cell, despite his claim that he was an Army soldier sent to release prisoners to fight the zombies, only to be mistaken for a guard and locked up by escapees. The menacing Miller ensures that Chris, who we later learn is Claire's brother, always makes for a captivating presence, even though he brings little of consequence to the story. But like I said when discussing the movie’s other pros, small favors seem huge when the movie is Resident Evil: Afterlife.

Deferring to my criticisms of the previous pictures on the rest, the only new part of the equation left to talk about is the 3D. It’s notable because the film was shot natively with an extra dimension on the Pace Fusion Camera, the piece of technology pioneered by Avatar. Like that visual milestone, this film might serve as a pretty cool Best Buy demo-real for 3D televisions, but it’s probably better as a 2D experience. The image is noticeably darker with the glasses on and the depth of field seems artificial. I’ve always been firmly in the anti-3D camp and Resident Evil: Afterlife does nothing to change my mind. In fact, I would argue the only time that the new 3D really works is the same one the old red-blue cellophane glasses kind did: when, as in the case of the recent Piranha 3D, the intention is to cheapen and cheese up the material. Resident Evil: Afterlife was already too cheap from the second it was green-lit. Like its predecessors, this is a movie only for carpel-tunnel afflicted gaming addicts whose weak hands don’t allow for all the seizure-inducing action they crave.

* * *

Resident Evil: Afterlife (2010, USA). Produced by Paul W.S. Anderson, Jeremy Bolt, Don Carmody, Berndt Eichinger, Samuel Hadida, Victor Hadida, Robert Kulzer, and Martin Moszkowicz. Directed and written for the screen by Paul W.S. Anderson. Starring Milla Jovovich, Ali Larter, Kim Coates, Shawn Roberts, Sergio Peris-Mencheta, Spencer Locke, Boris Kodjoe, and Wentworth Miller. Distributed by Screen Gems. Rated R, with a running time of 95 minutes.

Review: The American (2010) - 3 1/2 Buckets

2010-09-11T12:54:00.000-07:00

Some movies present the audience with a central character so cryptic, the experience is made involving solely by working to decipher the person. Such is the case with The American, in which George Clooney plays a man whose profession requires he be so secretive, he can’t even be himself when he’s alone. Or has he literally become his profession—a black-market weapons maker? That’s the viewer’s decision to a make. This is a movie in which plot (of which there is little) is secondary; the real arc and its accompanying tension are created by the viewer figuring out what this man is thinking. Many will be surprised at how much of a relationship they form with him in the process, how much they begin to care for a man who is as cold as they come on the surface.

His real name is Jack, or is it? That doesn’t much matter because, for most of the movie, he goes by Edward, and you’ll think of him as Clooney. When the audience meets him in a wintery opening scene, he has been staying with a woman in a cabin in the Swedish countryside. That’s the extent of our knowledge, however, when hitmen attempt to kill him. Jack treats the event with such definiteness that it’s clearly a regular occurence for him, and he is able to make off after shooting them—and his fling—dead. From there, his boss Pavel (Johan Leysen) assigns him to a new city, in remote Italy. There, we learn his gig is to make custom firearms, tailored specially for specific hits. His client is Mathilde (Thekla Reuten), who provides the specs and nothing else. Jack mostly follows protocol and keeps to himself as he assembles the gun, but he can’t avoid entanglements with the local priest (Paolo Bonacelli), who realizes his cover as a photographer doesn’t add up, and a seductive prostitute (Violante Placido), who he begins to see off the clock. All the while, the Swedes are clearly still after him.

If quiet, artful movies aren’t your thing, than you best look the other way. But for those who are willing to invest in The American, the payoff is rewarding. While the movie may not deliver constant action, it’s a real white-knuckler, especially due to the overwhelming cloud of doom that enshrouds Jack as the plot progresses.

But before one becomes enveloped in the central character, one will notice the film’s other superior trait: its visual power. Directed by former still photographer Anton Corbijin, who also made the 2007 black-and-white beauty Control, and shot by his DP Martin Ruhe, The American would likely be just as transfixing without sound. The stark, beautifully composed shots are not only a treat for the eyes, they capture the mysterious protagonist’s underlying primal emotions. While Clooney and the screenplay flesh out the details, the widescreen cinematography may be the viewer’s greatest insight into what Jack is feeling on the most basic level, from assuredness to claustrophobia.

Speaking of Clooney: this is his best performance in some time. He’s an actor who has always been gifted at playing solitary, bottled-up characters—for a more mainstream example, just look at Ryan Bingham in last year’s Up in the Air—and Jack represents a blank canvas that gives him a lot of creative room to roam. This is an appropriately un-showy performance, mostly free of dialogue, so the mere fact that Clooney keeps the viewer invested in the character is a marker of his success. And, as is the case with any great acting of this nature, Clooney’s work is up for interpretation; just as a real-life person’s behavior could be viewer completely differently by separate onlookers, such is the case with Jack’s.

And don’t even get me started on Clooney’s co-star, Placido, who has a preordained future in American films for the simple fact that… well, you’ll know when you see them.

With such an engrossing, well-crafted character at the helm, it must have been tempting for director Corbijn to run wild with the movie. It could have easily kept up its high interest level for three hours. But instead, Corbijn remains incredibly measured, just as precise and masterful in his assembly of The American as Jack is in making firearms. It’s a raw filmmaking feat – a picture that strips down all the baggage usually associated with crime movies and makes a far more complex piece of work out of immaculately examined, often impenetrable human behavior.

* * *

The American (2010, USA). Produced by Anne Carey, George Clooney, Jill Green, Grant Heslov, Enzo Sisti, Moa Westeson, and Ann Wingate. Directed by Anton Corbijn. Written for the screen by Rowan Joffe, based on the novel by Martin Booth. Starring George Clooney, Violante Placido, Paolo Bonacelli, Thekla Reuten, and Irina Björklund. Distributed by Focus Features. Rated R, with a running time of 105 minutes.

Review: The Romantics (2010) - 1 1/2 Buckets

2010-09-10T09:24:00.000-07:00

Some big stars’ craving for formula is insatiable… not only do they make conventional Hollywood blockbusters, they also somehow find the most formulaic indies they can. My impulse has always been to assume that when popular actors like Katie Holmes, Anna Paquin, Malin Akerman, Josh Duhamel, Elijah Wood, Adam Brody, and Candice Bergen lend their talents to a smaller project they won’t be paid their usual rate for, it’s probably something special. But here’s The Romantics, which relies on every bullshit indie cliché in the book, to prove me wrong once again.

The story is something you’d expect from a movie with surface banality like Bride Wars, darkened up to fit the “brooding drama” genre. The viewer meets the ensemble as they prepare for Lila (Paquin) and Tom’s (Duhamel) wedding. Drama bubbles from the start, because Tom used to date maid of honor Laura (Katie Homes) during college and then off and on for years after. It doesn’t take a genius to predict that this will bring problems, probably unfaithfulness on Tom’s part. The rest of the cast, made up of characters that all come equipped with their own canned eccentricities, really just blend into one, with the possible exception of Lila’s alcoholic brother Chip, who Elijah Wood does a funny job with. Yes, this is a movie that makes Malin Akerman “blend in;” unthinkable, I know.

The Romantics is so derivative of other low-budget American indies that it could pass for a parody of them. Most apparently, the soundtrack is full of piercing, high-pitched ballads meant to ironically dictate the mood, as if writer/director Galt Niederhoffer loved but totally misunderstood Zach Braff’s famed musical approach to Garden State. While music is hardly what ruins The Romantics, it’s the first phony thing the viewer will notice about it.

But early on, the real phoniness is exposed in the form of the characters. Despite the cast’s honest attempts, these people do not resemble anyone in real-life in the slightest. Only in contrived indie-world would Laura, who’s been angry with Lila for some time, even show up to this wedding, much less as the maid of honor. And of course the others enact clichés to express even more worn-out symbolism, like frolicking down to the nearby beach inebriated, in the dark. Memo to Niederhoffer: nobody cares who’ll be the first to run into the waves or what it’s supposed to make the audience feel like. I could go on, but there’s no point in just rattling off a list.

Considering The Romantics’ utter artificiality, it is admittedly surprising that the final 20 minutes of the movie pack an actual punch. (Luckily for the reputations of all involved, they also keep it from ranking as one of the worst films of the year.) Paquin and Holmes have a stripped-down confrontation that shows why they’re both respected actresses; it’s tense and exhilarating, unlike practically everything else that has come before. Ironically, only then does the viewer feel like there may actually be something more to these characters. It’s also admirable that the final scene—the inevitable wedding—doesn’t rely on any grandstanding to shake up the plot as they often do in this type of movie. But there won’t be a member of the audience who doesn’t view this sudden uptick in quality as too little, too late. The Romanticsremains a film that we’ve seen a zillion times before, a little more painful to watch than the last time we were presented these caricatures and problems.

* * *

The Romantics (2010, USA). Produced by Robert Ogden Barnum, James Belfer, Michael Benaroya, Cynthia Coury, Simon Crowe, Eva Marie Daniels, Rose Ganguzza, Daniel Hendler, Pamela Hirsch, Katie Holmes, Taylor Kephart, Lawrence M. Kopeikin, Todd J. Labarowski, Riva Marker, Nic Marshall, Tommee May, Ranjit Raju, Celine Rattray, Cecilia Kate Roque, Tony Shawkate, Jai Stefan, Ron Stein, Daniela Taplin Lundberg, Jennifer Todd, Suzanne Todd, Todd Traina, and Owen Weisman. Directed by Galt Niederhoffer. Written for the screen by Galt Niederhoffer, based on her novel. Starring Katie Holmes, Anna Paquin, Josh Duhamel, Malin Akerman, Jeremy Strong, Candice Bergen, Adam Brody, and Elijah Wood. Distributed by Paramount Famous Productions. Rated PG-13, with a running time of 95 minutes.

Box Office Predictions: Weekend of 9/10

2010-09-09T16:57:00.000-07:00

You want accurate predictions and, last week, for the most part, I delivered. With the exception of Machete, which I substantially overestimated, my guesses fared very well. I got within half a million of both the other openers, The American and Going the Distance, and didn't do too shabbily on the holdovers, either. I'm not saying this to boast, but rather just to revel in my first really accurate week at the box office analysis game.

This weekend could extend my winning streak or completely destroy it; it's make-or-break, as there is only one new wide release. That's Paul W.S. Anderson's fourth entry in his Resident Evil franchise, based on the popular video game. However, Resident Evil: Afterlife marks the first time protagonist Alice has dodged bullets in 3D--captured by the same camera that brought us Avatar, no less--so at least one new variable factors into the equation.

While 3D naysayers argue the technology is already starting to fade from public interest, citing the declining percentage of overall ticket sales it makes up for with each new film, Resident Evil: Afterlife seems like the type of film moviegoers will want to see in the format. Not to mention, the promotional campaign has been explicit about the fact that the picture was not rendered into 3D in post-production, but shot that way, which people understand means a better-looking final film. With this in mind, I'd say Resident Evil: Afterlife comes close to the upper echelon of 3D viewership, with likely 70% of ticket-buyers seeing it in 3D. Also, in addition to standard 3D screens, the movie is playing in Digital IMAX 3D, which tacks another couple bucks onto the price. The average premium paid for the extra dimension should near $4 a ticket.

As for historical comparisons, I don't think one has to look any farther than the other films in the series. The only other worthwhile comparison I might've considered taking into account would have been similar 3D features, but there aren't any unless one stretches to 3D horror films like My Bloody Valentine. But they're not really similar, so let's get down to it... The first Resident Evil grossed $17.7 million over its opening weekend in 2002. In 2004, Part 2, Apocalypse, jumped substantially to $23m. Three years after that, Extinction, the immediate predecessor to this new film, opened to $23.7m. This means Extinction was about even with Apocalypse after accounting for inflation, suggesting the amount of interested viewers hit a ceiling.

So let's assume the ceiling for these movies is $23m in 2004 dollars. Adjusting for inflation to today, that's $25.9m. But we must account for the $4 3D surcharge on 70% of tickets, which we'll assume come at an average base price of $8. That would mean the 3D version will take in $24.2m and the 2D version another $6.9m, bringing my final prediction for Resident Evil: Afterlife to a stellar $31.1 million.

Other than that, there are only a handful of indies coming out in limited release, and only one of them is likely to many any waves. It's Casey Affleck's documentary about Joaquin Phoenix's attempt to start a rap career, I'm Still Here, suspected by some to be a hoax. The movie opens in 19 sites and initial interest should be strong enough to manage a per theater average of around $8,000, but I'd be surprised if it got much higher than that because of the fact that it debuts nationwide on Video OnDemand in just two weeks.

My prediction of what the full top 10 will look like:
1. Resident Evil: Afterlife ... $31.1m ($9,710 PTA)
2. The American ... $6.3m ($2,224 PTA) -52.2%
3. Takers ... $5.4m ($2,465 PTA) -50.3%
4. Machete ... $4.1m ($1,531 PTA) -64.0%
5. Going the Distance ... $3.4m ($1,122 PTA)
6. The Last Exorcism ... $3.2m ($1,172 PTA) -56.4%
7. The Expendables ... $3.2m ($1,046 PTA) -51.7%
8. The Other Guys ... $2.9m ($1,291 PTA) -45.1%
9. Eat Pray Love ... $2.8m ($1,197 PTA) -41.7%
10. Inception ... $2.7m ($1,706 PTA) -40.9%

Historically, post-Labor Day weekend drops have been brutal, and I don't expect this weekend to be any exception.

Have thoughts on this new feature? Like it, don't like it, want something added? Shoot me an e-mail at webmaster@bucketreviews.com.

Review: Get Low (2010) - 3 Buckets

2010-09-08T13:05:00.000-07:00

I’m a big believer in the idea that a movie’s power to stick with the viewer is just as important as the impression it makes as it rolls through the projector gate. This is why I’m recommending Get Low. The movie is sleepy—boring in parts, even—and leads up to a payoff that isn’t as immediately fulfilling on a narrative level as one might hope. But between its assured delivery and its strong performances, namely a remarkable one by lead Robert Duvall, the film lingers a lot after you see it. Normally I try to write about a movie the day following the screening, when it’s still very fresh in my memory, but in this case I’m glad time constraints prevented me from doing so until three days later. I planned on giving Get Low a just-OK review as I walked out of the theater, but every time I’ve thought about it since, it’s haunted me a little more.

While independent film connoisseurs may remember a similar premise in Sol Tyron’s little-seen The Living Wake, Get Low is a very different movie – an American original through and through. It’s set in the Midwest countryside in the 1930s. Duvall plays the quiet, reclusive Felix Bush, who at the beginning of the film learns of the death of an old friend. At this point, the viewer knows very little about him other than that kids commonly try to vandalize his house. He then makes a rare venture outside his 100-acre backwoods farm into town to see the local reverend, whom he asks to conduct a funeral… for himself.

The reverend denies the request, but Felix is overheard by Buddy (Lucas Black), who works for undertaker Frank Quinn (Bill Murray). Quinn is desperate for any business he can get in the down economy, and he agrees to entertain Felix’s request, which gets stranger as time passes. On the radio, Felix invites everyone who has a story about him to come and tell it. Over the years, he has been shrouded in gossip; some even believe he’s a murderer. In addition, Felix has decided to raffle off his home and property at $5 a ticket. But the real revelation will come in the form of a secret Felix has been keeping for ages, which he plans to share with everyone. This likely has something to do with the film’s opening shot—a house on fire as a shadowy figure runs away—and probably the dead sister of Felix’s old flame Mattie (Sissy Spacek).

The scene in which Duvall reveals his secret in front of hundreds of onlookers is emblematic of Get Low on the whole. The secret itself is anticlimactic—annoyingly so at first—but if one thinks about it, one realizes that it’s both realistic and that, despite its lack of immediate punch, it would definitely haunt this character forever. Likewise, the movie is true to the time and, even though it might not grab the viewer at first, it has a staying power waiting to be unleashed. Furthering the scene’s representation of the movie as whole is the fact that it represents the crescendo of Duvall’s amazing performance, which is all the more impressive because it’s so reserved and quiet, not reliant upon showiness. Once again demonstrating that he’s one of the finest actors of all-time, Duvall delivers Felix’s painstaking speech in extended takes, never once losing the viewers attention despite the stripped-down style. Even if one feels that everything else about Get Low is lacking, it’s still worth seeing for Duvall; he’s that great.

The other three main actors are quite good, as well. After delivering one of the most embarrassingly awful performances in recent memory in the horror film Legion, Lucas Black re-focuses and proves himself a young star to watch. Buddy could’ve easily been played trivially as a stupid hick—he’s always at the mercy of his boss, who’s the olden-day equivalent of a used car salesman—but instead he’s a source of heart in the film. Buddy doesn’t understand Felix, but he tries, making him both endearing as a character and a way for the audience to access the cryptic Felix. He’s also a foil to Bill Murray, who’s an unlikely but wholly appropriate choice to play a desperate businessman. Murray thankfully never descends into complete sleaze-ball territory, gearing his approach more toward gentle humor. And Sissy Spacek is a joy as always. Her scenes with Duvall are soft and graceful, even when their tone turns tragic for a short period.

It’s tempting to compare Get Low to an “easy listening” album in that it moves at its own pace, pleasantly but not always with apparent consequences. However, that would be a mistake, because this is not a disposable film. As the viewer gets to know Felix and think about the story once it’s over, they’ll realize Get Low packs quite a bit of emotional heft. I’d suspect the film is even better on subsequent viewings, with Duvall’s performance becoming more affecting when you know what kind of weight rests on Felix’s shoulders throughout. Even if it might seem underwhelming at first, this is the kind of movie that should be made more often, because what good is cinema if it only lasts for two hours?

* * *

Get Low (2010, USA). Produced by Daniel Baur, Rob Carliner, Beth W. Crookham, Blerim Destani, Robert Duvall, Scott Fischer, Dariusz Gasiorowski, David Ginsberg, David Gunlach, Don Mandrik, Alain Midzik, C. Gaby Mitchell, Brad Park, Brandie Park, Justyna Pawlak, Lily Philips, Chris Provenzano, Joey Rappa, Richard Luke Rothschild, Oliver Simon, Konrad Wojterkowski, Dean Zanuck, and Harrison Zanuck. Directed by Aaron Schneider. Written for the screen by Chris Provenzano and C. Gaby Mitchell. Story by Chris Provenzano and Scott Seeke. Starring Robert Duvall, Bill Murray, Lucas Black, Sissy Spacek, Gerald McRaney, and Bill Cobbs. Distributed by Sony Pictures Classics. Rated PG-13, with a running time of 100 minutes.

Review: Going the Distance (2010) - 2 1/2 Buckets

2010-09-06T09:12:00.000-07:00

Going the Distance is undone because its conventions overpower its original material, of which there is actually quite a bit. But why is this? After all, my two favorite movies of last year, Adventureland and (500) Days of Summer, were essentially cliché romantic comedies bolstered to greatness by original writing, style, and structure. Like those films, Going the Distance is hardly your average genre effort, despite its inclusion of a traditional meet-cute, a predictable final act, and more. On the surface, greatness doesn’t seem so far from reach.

However, when watching Going the Distance, it’s immediately clear where this film comes up short and the aforementioned ones didn’t: the characters. No matter how much the viewer may marvel over the fresh story decisions to not have either of the main couple cheat on each other or to include organically R-rated dialogue, the sense of originality missing from the central duo makes the whole exercise seem manufactured.

That’s not to say that Erin (Drew Barrymore) and Garrett (Justin Long) aren’t charming (they are) or that their chemistry doesn’t feel genuine (it better, as Barrymore and Long are in a real-life relationship). And so, as the viewer watches them get to know each other over Erin’s six-week newspaper internship in Manhattan and then struggle to make it work when she returns to San Francisco, they may enjoy the experience, but they’re not invested in it.

It’d be easy to blame the actors, especially Barrymore, for the simple fact that she’s played this role a dozen times and therefore could easily be construed as a caricature of herself. But they’re not the problem; they provoke more than enough audience-fawning and make the implications of the relationship feel real. Instead, the problem is Geoff LaTulippe’s writing, which seems so caught up in capturing an authentic long-distance relationship that it forgets about the people involved. Despite the actors’ endearing representations, these two couldn’t get any more cookie-cutter – he’s a semi-successful record-label employee who’s dying to jump off the corporate ladder and she’s a 31-year-old who’s still in graduate school because of the time she wasted chasing after a guy. As a result, the execution itself never overcomes this generic core mold, resulting in an audience that just doesn’t care.

Because the viewer remains relatively unmoved throughout, they’re also more likely to scrutinize other conventional material in the film. One of the key tricks in making a rom-com is to sweep the viewer up in the story so much that they don’t notice the underlying clichés; Going the Distance never gets away with this. The best example of something that would’ve been a home run in a more skilled film but is only a pleasant diversion here are Garrett’s two best friends, Dan (Charlie Day of “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia”) and Box (Jason Sudeikis of “SNL”). Dan, in particular, has some really inventive, funny bits, but the movie’s overriding sense of coldness reminds us that he’s just the requisite quirky friend there to offer zaniness and he is therefore less engaging.

The movie was directed by Nanette Burstein, whose previous works are the documentaries The Kid Stays in the Picture and American Teen. Both of those films, particularly the latter, enjoyed wide exposure by genre standards, perhaps gaining additional traction because of their creative embellishments. The latter, particularly, played more like orchestrated drama than real life. Interesting that Burstein would choose a script that feels very similar for her fiction debut. Sure, writer LaTulippe deserves credit for infusing Going the Distance with quite a bit of original stuff, including a handful of raunchy, laugh-out-loud moments. (And can I reiterate that these characters somehow find a way not to cheat on each other!?) LaTulippe’s work would likely get an A in any amateur screenwriting workshop. But that’s precisely the problem with Going the Distance: like a relationship that looks perfect on paper but then doesn’t work out, the movie has all the required elements but is missing the passion and soul.

* * *

Going the Distance (2010, USA). Produced by Jennifer Gibgot, Garett Grant, and Adam Shankman. Directed by Nanette Burstein. Written for the screen by Geoff LaTulippe. Starring Drew Barrymore, Justin Long, Charlie Day, Jason Sudeikis, Christina Applegate, Ron Livingston, and Jim Gaffigan. Distributed by Warner Bros. Rated PG-13, with a running time of 109 minutes.

Review: Machete (2010)

2010-09-04T15:29:00.000-07:00

Let’s suppose a gourmet Mexican meal were wrapped up in Taco Bell take-out containers and fed to a dozen random folks. It’s reasonable to assume at least eight would instantly realize they were not eating terrible fast food, but something better, purposefully concealed. The other four, on the other hand, might just accept what’s before them and say, “Damn, Taco Bell has gotten really good at making enchiladas.”

OK, perhaps an extended Mexican food analogy is too obtuse, but Machete is that gourmet enchilada in a Taco Bell container. In constructing an homage to exploitation films of the 1970s, it replicates its subjects’ outrageously severe presentation of serious issues, illegal immigration in this instance. Machete could be no more didactically inflammatory; in it, white politicians are satanic figures and the Mexican aliens they’re fighting against are free, beautiful revolutionaries.

For those familiar with the blaxploitation and grindhouse films that writers Robert and Álvaro Rodriguez are referencing, the movie is superfluous bliss, start to finish. This is easily the best constructed and most consistently entertaining film Robert, who also fills his usual roles of directing and editing, has ever made. I personally loved it. But I also believe that films must be socially responsible and consider their potentially dangerous cultural implications, even when it isn’t their fault some viewers don’t “get” it.

What I mean is, it’s clear that some viewers, particularly in the young Latino community, will take Machete not as a send-up to a genre, but as a celebration of violent activism. With the heated battle over immigration currently taking place, with both sides ready to trivialize each other, Machete is the poster-child for a film that will be misinterpreted and used as propaganda. Its idealness for this purpose not only came across to me as I watched it, but it was evidenced around me, with many fellow audience members cheering the violent protagonist on in his anti-white rampage. Some may disagree that the movie bears any responsibility for its unintended effects, but I’m skeptical. Yeah, I had a lot of fun watching it, but does its accessibility come at a cost?

That’s not to say that all art should be self-censoring because it may lead wackos to do crazy things. Some of the best films made have featured intentionally offensive, provocative material; this is often an artistic necessity. But the problem in Machete’s case is that the reward for the risk is so minor. While the movie is a supremely well-done mock-up of the B-movie genre, it doesn’t have anything powerful to say to compensate for those it may mislead. Certainly, there is a chance that those who don’t “get” the joke won’t, in fact, illogically leap to the conclusion that it is indeed a rallying cry for a “brown” revolution in America, in which case the enjoyment of those in on the joke will come at no expense. But with such a volatile issue, I think there’s reason to fear. Not to mention, the diehard anti-immigration movement’s potential reaction to the film is just as worrisome as their opposition’s; they may be even more likely to view Machete as a call to arms and then dumbly deem it representative of the views of all Mexican-Americans.

But because Machete is out there and I certainly would not advocate any kind of authoritative censorship, I will let you make your own decisions about its social implications. What I can talk about objectively is the movie’s supreme skill and entertainment value.

Danny Trejo, in perhaps his most commanding performance ever, reprises his role from a fake trailer in Rodriguez’ Grindhouse and runs wild with it. He’s the title Machete, an ex-Federale who escapes to the United States and pretends to be a day laborer after his plot to bust a dangerous Mexican drug-lord (Steven Seagal!) goes awry. In America, he just so happens to be hired by a mysterious businessman (Jeff Fahey) to assassinate an anti-immigrant senator (Robert De Niro) for $150,000. Machete expresses no reservations in accepting the job, giving the payout to the leader of “The Network” (Michelle Rodriguez), a secret organization that helps Mexicans cross the border. But just when he’s about to pull the trigger, Machete is shot himself and a hidden gunman puts a bullet in the senator’s leg. Machete was clearly a pawn. The man who put him up to the job was actually in the senator’s camp and he wanted Machete to become the violent face of illegal immigration, allowing the Senator to surge in the polls. But our hero is too sly to let that happen, escaping despite his wound and then seeking vengeance against the campaign, which is representative of a white America that just wants to keep the brown man down. Jessica Alba, Lindsay Lohan, and Cheech Marin all pop up along the way to lend spice.

Trejo is downright magnetic, giving the character the same campy force as Richard Roundtree did for Shaft. This is hardly even a winking performance; in fact, it’s dead serious, relying on the movie as a whole to do the winking. I can’t think of anyone but Trejo pulling it off, with his scary, tough-guy image and workmanlike presence. And even better is the fact that he’s matched by the rest of the cast, which fit the established prototypes of their roles perfectly. Alba is just as hot as she is the person you’d least expect to play an ICE agent, and that’s pretty much what the part called for. Lohan, in a near-tragic turn, pretty much plays her pre-recovery self: the drug-addled, webcam-broadcasting daughter of a corrupt drug trafficker. It’s hard to believe De Niro is in the movie at all, which is by itself enough to make him consistently interesting. Michelle Rodriguez mostly just stands around and looks pretty, with the big payoff being a seemingly endless shot of her midriff in the third act. And Cheech Marin fulfills the role of the comedian who’s so washed up he must resort to awkwardly delivering a serious performance… how’s that for Meta?

But even more than Machete is an actor’s movie, it’s Rodriguez’ movie. Often referred to as Hollywood’s handyman, essentially making home movies with big stars that play in a lot of theaters, Rodriguez embraces his reputation and makes a self-aware extravaganza. Sure, Rodriguez had a studio to please, but his independent approach is about as close to that of the subject exploitation films as any mainstream film will ever come. And boy does he take advantage of this, making Machete as much of a Mexploitation flick as possible. Just when you think the movie can’t up the ante any more as it moves into the third act—after a dozen crazy jump-cut sequences and huge explosions and more—then come the low-riders and a balls-to-the-walls finale that embarrass everything that’s come before. Those viewers on Rodriguez’ wavelength will marvel, “What was he thinking!?” in the best possible way, over and over. I’ve called the guy an amateur many times in the past, but somehow in making the most amateur-seeming of all his movies, Rodriguez has crafted his most accomplished, stimulating piece of art to date.

Hopefully the dramatic turn from skepticism to praise seen in this review will highlight the dilemma that Machete presents me. Usually, I don’t like most critics’ tendency to see themselves as smarter and more culturally aware than the average viewer, but in this case, I feel that I am. If I were the only one watching Machete, I’d have no problem writing my glowing response without any caveats. But I’m honestly concerned about the emotions the movie may rile up, in private even more so than in public. Then again, only when movies do said riling are we reminded that the art form is alive and well, so at least I can take comfort in that.

Rating taking cultural responsibility into account:

Rating throwing caution to the wind:

* * *

Machete (2010, USA). Produced by Elizabeth Avellan, Alan Bernon, Alistair Burlingham, Dominic Cancilla, Jerry Fruchtman, Peter Fruchtman, Jack Gilardi Jr., Anthony Gudas, Aaron Kaufman, Myles Nestel, Iliana Nikolic, Darby Parker, Tom Proper, Steve Robbins, Robert Rodriguez, Rick Schwartz, and Quentin Tarantino. Directed by Robert Rodriguez and Ethan Maniquis. Written for the screen by Robert Rodriguez and Álvaro Rodríguez. Starring Danny Trejo, Robert De Niro, Jessica Alba, Steven Seagal, Michelle Rodriguez, Jeff Fahey, Cheech Marin, and Lindsay Lohan. Distributed by 20th Century Fox. Rated R, with a running time of 105 minutes.

Box Office Predictions: Weekend of 9/3

2010-09-03T07:05:00.000-07:00

Hey, how about that--I was relatively accurate last weekend! Aside from completely underestimating Takers, which almost everybody did, and wrongly assuming Nanny McPhee Returns would hold well, I was in the general ballpark on most everything. So let's hope for even more precision going into this weekend, which brings us three new movies, all with pretty big stars. The big trick is: this time, due to the Labor Day holiday, we're not just dealing with the standard Friday-Saturday-Sunday predictions, but throwing Monday into the mix as well.

The reviews on George Clooney's R-rated The American suggest it's a very quiet, contemplative movie for adults. Before we get to direct comparisons, however, there are some solid statistics we already have available to us. The American actually opened on Wednesday (to $1.7m), and diligent Hollywood Stock Exchange user and box office aficionado Yun Xia has dug back into the history-books and found several other adult-themed movies that did the same going into Labor Day weekend (thanks man!). The clearest comparisons are The Constant Gardener, which multiplied its Wednesday gross by 11.79 over the four-day weekend; Traitor, which multiplied by 12.63; and Vanity Fair, which multiplied by 10.45. Of those, Vanity Fair seems the best comparison because it featured a big star like Clooney (though Reese Witherspoon isn't as big) and had similarly so-so reviews meaning not-so-stellar long weekend word-of-mouth. So, accounting for a little more front-loading due to Clooney's name and the lukewarm reviews and giving The American a multiplier of 9.5, that'd put its four-day weekend at $16.2m.

But before I cement that prediction, let's take a look at a couple more comparisons. Clooney's Michael Clayton opened wide to $11.2m including its non-Holiday Monday, in just 300 fewer theaters. But that film had a lot of momentum on its side, with a lot of awards talk, which The American doesn't have. I would be inclined to put The American in the same ballpark or lower, due to this factor, but there's one more thing to account for: Michael Clayton opened opposite two similarly adult-targeted films, We Own the Night and Elizabeth: The Golden Age. The American, on the other hand, will be the first choice for most 35-plus adults, with only the weeks-old Eat Pray Love leftover to scrounge for sloppy seconds. Had Michael Clayton siphoned off half of the audiences of its two competitors, it would have had a four-day of $20.4m.

Another solid comparison is Michael Clayton director Tony Gilroy's second feature, Duplicity, starring similarly big stars Julia Roberts and Clive Owen. Including its non-holiday first Monday, that film opened to just under $15m -- pretty close to the aforementioned American prediction. In fact, accounting for the Labor Day boost, I now see no problem sticking with it. $16.2 million for Clooney, I say!

The American's big competitor for #1 is the also R-rated Machete, which is a bit of a wildcard. The movie is directly targeted at two distinct audiences--the 18-35 year-old Mexican-Americans and those who love campy movies--and both have varied track-records. The last film to play in this many theaters with such a clear Mexican-American theme was also made by director Robert Rodgriguez: 2003's Once Upon a Time in Mexico, which debuted to a strong $23.4m, or $25.2m including its opening Monday ($29.3m accounting for inflation). But that film played well outside of Hispanics, too, and it was the final part of a trilogy that had gained many fans on DVD. Machete is more specialized in interest.

Also, one wonders how the Arizona immigration situation might affect this film's box office; those who supported the law and saw the film's trailer that took a jab at it might feel alienated and see something else. Underexposed potential viewers might incorrectly assume the film has a lot of political material in it, between the trailer's Arizona reference and the presence of an anti-illegal immigration politician played by Robert DeNiro. Then again, even if the film's audience was 100% Latino, that wouldn't preclude it from doing bang-up bucks. In fact, one could make the case that just as it might deter those who supported Arizona's law, Machete might stir up a sort of nationalist rally among those who denounced it.

But the race factor is only half the battle with Machete. The film originated as a fake trailer in Rodriguez and Quentin Tarantino's Grindhouse, paying homage to low-budget, violent action films of years ago. Grindhouse didn't do very well, grossing only $11.6m in its opening run, $12.9m including its first Monday ($13.3 accounting for inflation). The full-length version of that picture including the Machete fake trailer hasn't yet been released on DVD, meaning it gained very few fans since its theatrical run in 2007. Then again, for this new movie's sake, perhaps it's better that viewers aren't reminded of its association with a box-office bomb that appealed mostly to hardcore movie buffs. Without a clear direction, I'm going to formulate my Machete prediction simply by averaging Once Upon a Time in Mexico and Grindhouse's inflation-adjusted numbers, with one minor tweak. Once Upon a Time in Mexico debuted in 23% more theaters, so to account for those who saw it just because it was playing at their local house, I'll adjust its number down a bit to $26m. The equation comes out to an opening four-day weekend of $19.7 million for Machete. I'm sure everyone at Fox would be very happy with that number, as it would certainly mean a win on the weekend.

The third film of the weekend is sure to finish as a footnote. It's the Drew Barrymore/Justin Long romantic-comedy Going the Distance, directed by former indie documentarian Nanette Burstein. One of the major complaints with the R-rated film's ad campaign is that it doesn't highlight that the film is actually somewhat raunchy, instead depicting something more innocent. By turn, the argument goes, Going the Distance will appeal mostly to the PG-13 crowd who cannot see it. I tend to agree, but I keep thinking of a PG-13 comparison: the Ashton Kutcher/Amanda Peet bomb, A Lot Like Love. In fact, my feeling on this is too strong to even look further -- I'm putting all my marbles in one comparison. Accounting for inflation and giving A Lot Like Love's first non-holiday Monday a 33% increase to account for greater Labor Day attendance, the figure works out to an even $9 million. It's a haphazard prediction, but I'm sticking with it.

My prediction of what the full FOUR DAY top 10 will look like:

1. Machete ... $19.7m ($7,378 PTA)

2. The American ... $16.2m ($5,739 PTA)

3. Takers ... $11.4m ($5,168 PTA) -44.4% on last (3-day) weekend

4. Going the Distance ... $9.0m ($2,970 PTA)

5. The Last Exorcism ... $8.3m ($2,888 PTA) -59.2%

6. The Expendables ... $8.3m ($2,443 PTA) -12.9%

7. Eat Pray Love ... $5.6m ($2,103 PTA) -17.8%

8. The Other Guys ... $5.3m ($2,033 PTA) -15.7%

9. Inception ... $4.6m ($2,700 PTA) -5.7%

10. Nanny McPhee Returns ... $4.2m ($1,551 PTA) -10.9%

Three R-rated movies on the same weekend -- you don't see that very often. Can they pull it out?

Have thoughts on this new feature? Like it, don't like it, want something added? Shoot me an e-mail at webmaster@bucketreviews.com.

Review: The Last Exorcism (2010) - 3 Buckets

2010-08-28T12:45:00.001-07:00

Had you asked me before I saw The Last Exorcism, I don’t think I could have come up with one favorable example of deceptive film marketing. Usually, when a movie is sold as something it’s not, there’s reason to be pissed off; most viewers rightly expect to have a reasonably good idea of what their $10 are going towards. But there’s an exception to every rule and I’m happy The Last Exorcism is it. Sold by distributor Lionsgate as a Paranormal Activity-esque fright-fest, this actually may be the smartest motion picture American teenyboppers ever voluntarily see. It isn’t high art, but The Last Exorcism is surprisingly less a horror film than it is a thriller that uses its faux-documentary style to forge substantive social commentary about such topics as the blind following of organized religion and the camera’s ability to attract narcissism. The half-hour or so of material that’s intended to be scary in the conventional sense is the side dish, not the main course.

In fact, I’d expect early walkouts from those audience members who go in expecting blood and terror. The movie takes a lot of time—the full first act and more—setting up its lofty premise, free of any immediate scares. Filmed documentary-style from the start, the film introduces protagonist Reverend Cotton Marcus (Patrick Fabian) of Baton Rouge, La. At church, he appears to be your ordinary charistmatic, bible-thumping Evangelical preacher. But, in truth, he’s anything gbut. After going through the traumatic premature birth of his son, Cotton grew to find his faith less and less important in his life. The only reason he continues in his profession is because it’s the way he best knows to pay the bills.

The reason for the documentary is Cotton seeks to expose the con of the exorcism within his religion. (I guess he figures he’ll make enough money off of it to pay those bills when it leads to his excommunication?) In an interview segment, he humorously assures viewers that even though the ancient ritual is typically associated with Catholics because “they have The Exorcist,” it’s a actually common practice within many religions. In fact, Cotton was a child prodigy exorcist, with news-clippings showing him performing the ceremonies at as early as 10 years old. But he has come to view them as a hoax, never having seen a ghost or anything remotely supernatural during the many he’s conducted. After hearing news of deaths occurring during exorcisms, he saw the need to create positive change by rigging fake ones and then demonstrating the placebo effect they hold on participants. Of course, his good intentions are matched by his own cocky desire for the camera; he hams it up and has a huge ego throughout the documentary.

Cotton’s subject this time is, to his surprise, 16-year-old Nell Sweetzer (Ashley Bell). “I don’t like to work with kids,” he says, after realizing he won’t actually be exorcizing Nell’s religious-fanatic father Louis (Louis Herthum), who wrote the letter requesting the act be performed. Nell has allegedly been engaging in strange behavior she has no recollection of, such as killing livestock on the family farm. Cotton tells the Sweetzers—Nell, her dad, and her angry, skeptical brother Caleb (Caleb Landry Jones)—that the demon Abalam is possessing the girl, randomly picking one out of his weathered picture-book. Using a bunch of magic tricks that make disturbing noises, shake photos in the room, and cause his cross to smoke up, Cotton performs the phony exorcism and calls it a day. But then comes the real horror: Nell is still displaying demonic tendencies later that night. Is she just psychologically screwed up, or does Abalam really have a hold over her?

Just as interesting as The Last Exorcism’s style and grander plot is the character Cotton himself, credibly played by television actor Patrick Fabian. Whereas a less complex film would’ve depicted Cotton as your standard well-meaning citizen journalist, director Daniel Stamm and writers Huck Botko and Andrew Gurland don’t fall into this trap. They realize Cotton would have to be a hot-head who loves the camera to be staging this kind of elaborate set-up. Even when Nell starts to show signs of true problems beyond imagined demonic possession, Cotton never second-guesses his decisions regarding her welfare. That requires a certain degree of arrogance, which would be fitting of someone who was a local celebrity at a young age. And yet Cotton never becomes unsympathetic because he admittedly seems to be onto something, meaning the viewer never becomes irritated by or bored of the man who leads them on the journey. Actor Fabian is just as responsible as the script for this success, too, as he nails the dichotomy, turning Cotton from charismatic to flawed and back on a dime.

On a narrative level, the movie is distinguished by its superior building of suspense. What’s really going on with Nell? If she is possessed, then are Cotton and the two documentarians accompanying him in danger, as the bloody drawings that Nell creates while “under the influence” suggest? Nell’s brother Caleb and the local pastor (Tony Bentley) appear to be hiding something; if really they are, what is it? Nothing is resolved with certainty until the film’s final scene, which is sure to be vigorously debated. However, even if one doesn’t like the ultimate outcome artistically, one would be hard-pressed to claim they predicted it.

As the cherry on top of it all, there’s what The Last Exorcism says about organized religion and religious figureheads in America. Louis, who’s been estranged from the local church since the passing of his wife, seems to blindly trust the allegedly expert Cotton to save his daughter from the demon within her… that is, until after Cotton’s exorcism “fails,” and he claims it isn’t a demon at all, but a psychiatric issue. Louis then returns to the scripture, which turns him towards violence. Yes, this is all fun and games and not meant to be taken seriously, but Cotton’s use of religion for selfish purposes and Louis’ literalist backlash bear striking resemblance to certain public figures today. It amounts to a very clever movie that gets the viewer thinking about how Christianity is abused in all kinds of ways, especially when media (in this case a documentary) is involved.

But even after all this praise, I probably still haven’t convinced you that the scare-quotient is irrelevant, have I? Truth be told, if you’re looking for the movie that will raise your heart-rate the highest, you should look elsewhere. There are admittedly some eerie sequences in The Last Exorcism that are shrouded in anxiety-producing mystery, but the number of outright terrifying moments is low. In fact, those who would be likely to jump out of their seats at the “scary stuff” in the final act are probably the same people who would walk out at the beginning of the movie because they find the other elements boring. For those moviegoers who like to be thrilled and think a little bit while they’re at it, however, The Last Exorcism represents multiplex fare at its best.

* * *

The Last Exorcism (2010, USA). Produced by Marc Abraham, Thomas A. Bliss, Patrick Curd, Ron Halpern, Patty Long, Eric Newman, and Eli Roth. Directed by Daniel Stamm. Written for the screen by Huck Botko and Andrew Gurland. Starring Patrick Fabian, Ashley Bell, Iris Bahr, Louis Herthum, Caleb Landry Jones, and Tony Bentley. Distributed by Lionsgate. Rated PG-13, with a running time of 90 minutes.

Box Office Predictions: Weekend of 8/27

2010-08-26T20:16:00.000-07:00

Well, after last weekend's predictions, my credibility in this arena has reached a new low. The only opener I came close to predicting with 100% accuracy was Piranha 3D. And that's unfortunate, because the highly entertaining bloodbath deserved better than its paltry box office total of $10.1m, much like fellow bomb Scott Pilgrim vs. the World did two weeks ago. But fear not... unlike Scott Pilgrim, Piranha 3D didn't cost very much to make and a sequel is already in the works. So long as another penis is dismembered by a flesh-hungry ancient fish in spectacular 3D, I'm totally game.

This weekend brings us two new films and another in re-release: the low-budget horror mock-doc The Last Exorcism, the urban action flick Takers, and a certain indie with 3D blue people that grossed next to nothing (I forget what it's called).

With a viral Internet marketing campaign and abundant use of handheld camera, The Last Exorcism is most conveniently compared to last year's smash-hit Paranormal Activity. But that's a tricky proposition because of two factors: 1) The Last Exorcism is rated PG-13 whereas Paranormal Activity was R, meaning they may find different audiences, and 2) Paranormal Activity's release pattern (midnight only, then limited, then wide) makes it impossible to form a true opening weekend comparison. For the record, Paranormal Activity made $21.1m in its first weekend of wide release, but I'm only including that figure because I may have gotten you to wondering.

I think a better comparison is The Haunting in Connecticut, which had a different style but similarly supernatural themes. It was also similarly PG-13, catered to a younger audience, and was distributed by mini-major Lionsgate. Also, The Haunting in Connecticut debuted the first week after many teens and college students went back to school from spring break, just as they doing are now from summer break. That Virginia Madsen-starrer grossed an even $23m opening weekend.

Another potential comparison of teen horror with better-than-average reviews and marketing is The Ring, which made $15m in its opening weekend back in 2002. Adjusting for inflation, that number would be around $17.8m today. However, if we want an August PG-13 horror comparison, we have to go back to 2001's The Others, which made $14.1m opening weekend but had legs that took it to $96.5m total, which The Last Exorcism is unlikely to have. If you appropriate The Others' run to be more front-loaded and account for inflation, the number comes close to $30m... which'd be a great, strong surprise for The Last Exorcism.

Other similar PG-13 horror comparisons include The Exorcism of Emily Rose ($30m, a true surprise when it was released), The Stepfather ($11.6m), The Unborn ($19.8m), and 1408 ($20.6m). So, removing outliers, the range seems to be high teens to mid-twenties. Because it falls within that range, I'm sticking with the Haunting in Connecticut comparison and saying $23 million.

Takers, on the other hand, has far fewer easy comparisons. The only example of a similarly-targeted August action film I can think of is S.W.A.T., which played to a massive $37.1m back in 2003. I think it's safe to say that isn't going to happen here. Takers doesn't have the buzz, the big theater count, or the widely-appealing stars. In fact, in terms of that last part, the presence of everybody's least favorite abusive boyfriend Chris Brown may actually hurt its box office take.

That being said, I think those prognosticators who are calling Takers an August dump-job that will gross in the single digits are wrong. Comparisons to Armored ($6.5m) and The Losers ($9.4m) just don't sit right with me, especially given the film has an ad campaign that has done a solid job targeting the African-American community. In this regard, I think Takers has more in common with its distributor Sony/Screen Gems' big hit last summer, Obsessed, which opened to a huge $28.6m. Of course, it doesn't have Beyoncé or that film's high theater count, so it has absolutely no chance of breaking into the 20s or even the mid-teens. But I say it's good for at least 2/5 of Obsessed's gross--yep, I'm sure feeling arbitrary tonight--which is $11.4 million.

Then there's the matter of the Avatar re-release. Even more so than is the case with Takers, there is a complete lack of applicable comparisons here. This substantial a re-release (811 theaters) hasn't occurred at this interval (9 months since initial release) in a very long time. Thus, trying to compare it to the re-releases of the Star Wars or Toy Story movies is just silly. All we know is that there probably is some degree of interest in seeing the film again on the big-screen despite the fact it's on DVD and Blu-Ray because A) it's the highest grossing film of all time so some people must be interested in an additional nine minutes of footage, B) audiences clearly identified the 3D and the IMAX factors as special the first time around, and C) it's being re-released in a dead month with little desirable competition. So what is there to do but throw out a number? I'll say the movie does a solid $7,500 per theater accounting for increased 3D and IMAX ticket prices (yep, I'm really pulling numbers out of my ass now), meaning a total of $6.1 million on the weekend. That'll easily get it past the $750m threshold Fox wants it to exceed for prestige.

My prediction of what the full top 10 will look like:

1. The Last Exorcism ... $23m ($8,003 Per Theater Average)

2. Takers ... $11.4m ($5,168 PTA)

3. The Expendables ... $8.5m ($2,501 PTA) -50.0%

4. Eat Pray Love ... $7.4m ($2,381 PTA) -38.9%

5. The Other Guys ... $6.4m ($2,012 PTA) -37.3%

6. Nanny McPhee Returns ... $6.3m ($2,252 PTA) -25.1%

7. Avatar ... $6.1m ($7,512 PTA0

8. Vampires Suck ... $5.5m ($1,701 PTA) -54.9%

9. Inception ... $4.9m ($2,357 PTA) -37.5%

10. Lottery Ticket ... $4.8m ($2,433 PTA) -54.9%

-No longer in the top 10- The Switch ... $4.5m ($2,231 PTA) -46.7%

-No longer in the top 10- Piranha 3D ... $3.9m ($1,566 PTA) -61.4%

Looks like late August, smells like late August, feels like late August. Next weekend, good movies will hopefully bloom anew.

Have thoughts on this new feature? Like it, don't like it, want something added? Shoot me an e-mail at webmaster@bucketreviews.com.

Box Office Predictions: Weekend of 8/20

2010-08-19T16:33:00.000-07:00

Another weekend means new box office predictions. My inaugural guesses faired OK last weekend--I got the order mostly right and got within 10% on most of the holdovers--but there's a lot of room for improvement. This upcoming weekend is really anyone's guess; it brings us five new films that are basically August dump-jobs. Audiences get to pick from the family sequel Nanny McPhee Returns (read my review here), the urban comedy Lottery Ticket, the latest Friedberg/Seltzer paro-trocity Vampires Suck, the 3D-gorefest Piranha, and an old Miramax release called The Switch that has been gathering dust on the shelf for awhile.

With the exception of maybe Nanny McPhee Returns, I don't think any of those films have a chance at seizing the #1 slot. Once again, it would seem the battle is between Sylvester Stallone's The Expendables and the Julia Roberts-vehicle Eat Pray Love. Sly's action-extravaganza dominated the box office last weekend with a strong $34.8 million, but it's likely to have a big drop this weekend. Sly's 2008 Rambo dropped 60.9% week-over-week and I don't think there's a better comparison. That would put The Expendables in line for a weekend of $13.6m.

Eat Pray Love, on the other hand, opened to significantly less last weekend ($23.1m), but its drop should be comparatively soft. Last year's Julie & Julia, the best comparison, dropped 39.8% on its second weekend. I think Eat Pray Love will fall a little more than that because selling-point Roberts and the beloved source material suggest more front-loading. On this one, I'll go with a drop of 42.5%. That'd put Eat Pray Love in the neighborhood of $13.3m -- it'll be a real cage match for #1 among these two holdovers.

Close behind (if not ahead), undoubtedly, will be Nanny McPhee Returns. Yes, on one hand, the original did open to a very strong $14.5m in only about 2/3 of the theaters of this sequel. But the follow-up has two things going wrong for it: 1) it isn't as good as the first (contrary to the critical consensus) and 2) lots of kids are going back to school Monday, meaning they may spend the weekend shopping for supplies and getting ready rather than going to the movies. Last year, the kids film Shorts debuted in the same frame to a paltry $6.4m. That being said, I could definitely eat my words on this one come Sunday. For now, I'll go with my gut and pick a moderate number out of the sky -- $13.1m, I think.

Another noteworthy debut is Lottery Ticket. Over the years, box office prognosticators have been taught to never underestimate the urban comedy, which has a tendency to be marketed in African-American areas and nowhere else. Thus, those of us who live in other places are often unaware of the potential for success. Lottery Ticket could represent such a case. Marketing-wise, I sense a lot in common with First Sunday, which was likewise "dumped" in January to the unexpectedly profitable tune of $17.7m. However, the presence of the church in that film may have attracted the potent Tyler Perry audience more than this film will. Not to mention, Lottery Ticket skews pretty young, with once kid-rapper Bow Wow headlining. Bow Wow's previous film, 2005's Roll Bounce, opened in about 300 less theaters (1,625 vs. 1,937) to only $7.6m. Even calculating for inflation from 2005, that'd put Lottery Ticket at only around $8.3m by direct comparison. But my gut tells me the best comparison here is 2006's similarly young, African-American targeted ATL, which opened to $11.6m. Accounting for a little inflation, that'd put Lottery Ticket in line for an opening of $12.3m.

Next up is Friedberg/Selzer's Vampires Suck, which debuted yesterday to the tune of $4m. With most of the audience still out of school and the potential for front-loading rife, my guess is that Friday only matches that gross, and maybe even sees less. Not to mention, the Wednesday opening should fare worse for its over-the-weekend internal multiplier than the writer/director duo's previous August release, Disaster Movie, as most of the first-choice audience will have seen it already by Friday. Disaster Movie managed to multiply its Friday gross by an impressive 2.88, but I think Vampires Suck will be more in the realm of 2.5. That'd put its weekend at an even $10m.

Then there's the very-adult Piranha 3D, which has nifty ads, momentum online, and good early reviews funneling in. (After last weekend's Scott Pilgrim vs. the World bombing, however, one must be skeptical of all three things.) With a similar theater count to last year's My Bloody Valentine 3D, one could make a case that this one has a chance at coming out of left-field and replicating that picture's successful $21.2m opening, even considering internal problems at distributor Weinstein. But I wouldn't buy that argument for a second. Murderous piranhas and washed up '80s stars may sound cool to me and many other geeks online, but they don't make for the kind of mainstream success that the former 3D horror film enjoyed. The camp factor is high here. Very optimistically, I could go for the argument that this matches Snakes on a Plane's $13.8m, including the 3D-surcharge. But I think it will probably be lower, as the mainstream appeal just doesn't seem to be there. Another significant factor is that urban audiences make up a big percentage of the horror demographic, and they will be siphoned away by Lottery Ticket. Ultimately, I'm going to be a pessimist on this one. I'll go with last year's tropical horror film A Perfect Getaway's $6m opening, plus a big increase for 3D (I'd expect about 75% of tickets to be sold in that format), plus another $1.5m for additional geek interest. That'd put Piranha 3D at $9.9m, figuring average 2D ticket-prices of $8 and 3D of $11.

The last film of the lot is The Switch, which boasts all of the signs of a huuuge bomb. My best guess is it ends up splitting the difference between stars Jennifer Aniston and Jason Bateman's previous late-summer releases. Those would be Love Happens ($8.1m) and Extract ($4.3m), respectively, putting my prediction at $6.2m, well below the standards of these actors and the genre.

So, if I'm on the right track, what we end up with are some OK holds and some OK openings, but nothing special. Sounds like late August to me...

My prediction of what the full top 10 will look like:

1. The Expendables ... $13.6m ($4,159 Per Theater Average) -60.9%

2. Eat Pray Love ... $13.3m ($4,315 PTA) -42.5%

3. Nanny McPhee Returns ... $13.1m ($4,707 PTA)

4. Lottery Ticket ... $12.3m ($6,234 PTA)

5. Vampires Suck ... $10m ($3,358 PTA)

6. Piranha 3D ... $9.9m ($4,008 PTA)

7. The Other Guys ... $9.4m ($2,707 PTA) -46.0%

8. Inception ... $7m ($2,915 PTA) -38.0%

9. The Switch ... $6.2m ($3,082 PTA)

10. Scott Pilgrim vs. the World ... $6.2m ($2,199 PTA) -41.6%

Have thoughts on this new feature? Like it, don't like it, want something added? Shoot me an e-mail at webmaster@bucketreviews.com.

Nanny McPhee Returns (2010) - 2 1/2 Buckets

2010-08-19T10:14:00.000-07:00

The original Nanny McPhee was a pleasant surprise, arriving on the scene billed as just another dumper of a January kids’ flick but then proving itself to actually be rather funny and touching. The magic of the movie was that it allowed the audience to both laugh at its child cast’s mischievous antics and root for the title Nanny (an unrecognizable Emma Thompson) in rearing them. A then 16-year-old friend and I went to see it because it was the only thing we hadn’t yet caught and I could get us in for free as an employee of the theater. We came out floored that even we, the antithesis of the target audience, had laughed and had ourselves a jolly good time.

Nanny McPhee Returns is not a bad movie, but its lack of originality and humor compared to the first film seem like more severe offenses than they really are because of the high standards in place. This time, writer/star Thompson and new director Susanna White place Nanny McPhee and her subjects into a conventional wartime weepy and, while it beats Tooth Fairy or The Spy Next Door as family fare any day, one could definitely argue that viewers would be better off watching its predecessor again instead.

This time around, the ill-behaved children are those of Isabel Green (Maggie Gyllenhaal, doing her best British accent), who live on a farm in the English countryside circa World War II. Their father (Ewan McGregor) is off fighting and his lack of presence is obviously taking a toll on the family. The kids’ antics wear on Isabel, who’s already stressed because she may have to sell the farm if she can’t come up with her monthly tractor payment. So what better idea but to add two more to the mix? The Cousins, as they’re dubbed, arrive at the farm, apparently because their London home is unsafe due to the firebombing. More ruckus ensues. Enter Nanny McPhee, who will surely teach the kids how to behave and how to care.

The biggest error Thompson and Grant make is not using Nanny McPhee enough. It feels as though the staple of the franchise is reduced to a footnote here, showing up when the strike of her whimsical cane is needed but otherwise simply looming in the background. This character is who audiences are paying to see, so why minimize her part?

Then again, maybe Nanny McPhee’s role in the first movie only seems comparatively larger because the surrounding story was better, meaning her absences were less of an issue. Unlike this sequel, the original film offered a lot of juicy narrative elements, like the love story between dad Colin Firth and maid Kelly Macdonald. While the original was hardly unpredictable, it was always entertaining because it engaged the viewer’s sense of wonder. Nanny McPhee Returns, on the other hand, features a family story that is conventional not only in plot, but emotion. We know from the beginning that the two main crisis-points for the family will be 1) whether or not their father dies in combat and 2) whether or not they have to sell the farm. Based on this short synopsis, I bet you can guess the outcomes of both story threads.

Nanny McPhee Returns also relies on cutesy trifles that are mildly amusing, but that simply amount to diversion where the first would have relied on heart. Yes, CGI pigs performing a synchronized swimming routine are worth a laugh and will undoubtedly amuse kids, but then again, are they really that funny and aren’t kids amused by anything? The same goes for the CGI baby elephant and Nanny McPhee’s trusty bird that uses its gas problem for the greater good.

But all this criticism is simply an indicator of the fact that I feel Nanny McPhee Returns is inferior to the first film, not that it’s a very bad film itself. As a Saturday matinee babysitter, it may not be Pixar, but it certainly won’t be a painful watch for parents. Maggie Gyllenhaal, for one, is delightful in the lead role. Her character may be too standard-issue to make much of an emotional impact, but viewers will enjoy Gyllenhaal’s sparkling presence throughout. The entire cast of kids, too, delivers strong performances that don’t suffer from the typical difficulties child actors often face. And, minimized as she may be, Nanny McPhee is just as charming as ever, so much so that one might still find oneself hoping Thompson reprises this role again, despite the sequel’s significant drop in quality. Nanny McPhee Returns settles for pleasant, moderate fun, but is unlikely to elicit strong enthusiasm from any moviegoer over the age of 10.

* * *

Nanny McPhee Returns (2010; UK, France, USA). Produced by Tim Bevan, David Brown, Liza Chasin, Lindsay Duran, Eric Fellner, Debra Hayward, Debra Osbourne, and Emma Thompson. Directed by Susanna Grant. Written for the screen by Emma Thompson, based on the characters created by Christianna Brand. Starring Emma Thompson, Maggie Gyllenhaal, Oscar Steer, Asa Butterfield, Lil Woods, Eros Vlahos, Rosie Taylor-Ritson, Rhys Ifans, Maggie Smith, and Ewan McGregor. Distributed by Universal Pictures. Rated PG, with a running time of 109 minutes.

Review: Salt (2010) - 3 Buckets

2010-08-16T11:31:00.001-07:00

My requirements of a thriller break down like this: 1) it’s suspenseful and keeps me guessing until the final reveal, 2) it features an interesting protagonist and villain, even if who’s who is often in question, and 3) it handles action deftly, without any additional fat to bog up the plot. Salt holds to these core values. While detractors of the film may argue it’s pretty empty, with a thin story only designed to move the characters from one improbable action set piece to another, I think they’re overanalyzing things. There’s nothing ignoble about what Salt sets out to do—entertain with supreme skill and style—and it executes its plan masterfully. This certainly doesn’t make it a masterpiece, but it will make for a jolly good Friday night guessing-game at the cinema. I can’t think of anything released in the past three months that better embodies the spirit of summer movie-going, thanks to star Angelina Jolie and director Philip Noyce.

The movie’s tagline summarizes it pretty well: “Who is Salt?” We first meet Evelyn Salt (Jolie) as an American CIA agent, in a flashback sequence where we see her being freed from a torture camp in North Korea. Flash-forward several years and she’s still with the organization, working out of Washington D.C. She’s asked to interrogate a Russian national named Orlov (Daniel Olbrychski), who claims she is a Russian spy who will participate in a doomsday plot called Day X. He alleges that this will begin the next day when Salt assassinates the President of Russia at the late U.S. Vice President’s funeral. Provided he has not “beat” the lie detector test, Orlov is telling the truth.

It’s clear Evelyn has some part in Day X when she breaks out in a sprint, fighting to make her way out of the secured building in a grandiose chase sequence involving even a makeshift fire-gun. And surprise, surprise—we learn Orlov is aligned with Salt, as he kills two guards and escapes. Surely enough, the next day, Salt shoots the Russian President at point-blank range at the funeral in yet another extravagant, preposterous action sequence. She’s momentarily taken into custody but once again—you guessed it—escapes, only to then kill Orlov at their secret meeting place before continuing on with the Day X plot. The viewer quickly realizes there must be more to the story, but what? Just who is Salt and who exactly is she working for? Could she be a triple-agent?

Angelina Jolie was born to play this role. It’s ideal for her because, not only does she have the chops to handle the action sequences, the character also doesn’t require her to be likable. Jolie, despised as a public figure and an actress by a vocal minority, usually plays powerful women the viewer must love in order to truly get absorbed in the plot. But here, her character is shrouded in mystery and the viewer isn’t supposed to know whether they like her or not. As a result, even those who don’t consider themselves Jolie fans will make for potential fans of Salt. You don’t find many action films or thrillers where you don’t need to root for the main character to find them engaging, but this is that rare exception. And, man oh man, is Jolie photogenic as ever in the wham-bam action sequences. Rumored to have done many of her own stunts, she delivers a strong physical performance that keeps the adrenaline-level at maximum throughout. Whether Salt is actually with the good guys or the bad, there’s no denying she kicks ass.

Sealing the deal is the superior staging and pacing of director Philip Noyce, who hasn’t made an action film since 1997’s The Saint starring Val Kilmer. Noyce moves from one action-packed sequence to the next, making Salt a supreme popcorn movie if there ever was one. (I might be compelled to use the phrase “testosterone-filled” if not for the fact that there’s a female lead.) And yet, even though Noyce is unrelenting in his approach, the action is very clear and understandable, making it so much more engrossing than that of the music video-style genre-efforts that have become ubiquitous in Hollywood. Noyce’s vision puts the audience in a visceral position, making them feel the thrust of each punch and the sound of each gunshot. In a silly movie with no real consequences such as this one, this sort of feeling is very important for a director to maintain in order to keep hold of the audience. In this respect, Noyce is even more integral to the film’s success than Jolie; he’s the true puppeteer of the play.

If you require more of a thriller than that it is well-constructed action with audiovisual power, Salt may not be your cup of tea. But for the rest of us, it’s a good reminder that a simple, lean popcorn flick can actually be done satisfyingly. (When condemning the latest Michael Bay film mainly for lacking in the substance department, I usually forget that there are movies like Salt and the recent Scott Pilgrim vs. the World that actually do the style-only thing pretty well.) Noyce’s movie is filled with enough technical prowess that viewers don’t need to follow that dumb old adage: “Turn off your brain.” They simply need to redirect their mind’s attention to the good stuff Salt has to offer, which is admittedly not intellectual, but it sure is entertaining.

* * *

Salt (2010, USA). Produced by William M. Connor, Lorenzo di Bonaventura, Samuel Dickerman, Ric Kidney, Hannah Minghella, Sunil Perkash, and Mark Vahradian. Directed by Philip Noyce. Written for the screen by Kurt Wimmer. Starring Angelina Jolie, Liev Schrieber, Chiwetel Ejiofor, Daniel Olbrychski, and August Diehl. Distributed by Columbia Pictures. Rated PG-13, with a running time of 95 minutes.

Review: Scott Pilgrim vs. the World (2010) - 3 Buckets

2010-08-15T10:28:00.000-07:00

Scott Pilgrim vs. the World is one of those movies we must admire for its accomplishments all the more because of all the ways it could have gone horribly wrong. The movie promises nearly two hours of comic-book action done in the style of a video game, with a repetitive plot to boot. Can you imagine what that might have meant had Paul W.S. Anderson been the man in charge? Throw in the fact that lead Michael Cera was all but guaranteed to pull of his action-star role and the delightful final product that writer/director Edgar Wright has concocted seems like a minor-miracle.

This really is an auteur piece for Wright, in spite of how faithfully he’s adapted (with Michael Bacall) Bryan Lee O’Malley’s source comic. His previous quasi-parody charmers made with Simon Pegg and Nick Frost, Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz, showed that he definitely had a knack for comedy and action, but they were comparatively calm and low-budget. Thankfully, Wright has no problem pulling off the schizophrenic kinetics and whip-snap jokes of Scott Pilgrim vs. the World, assembling them with such command that it’s fair to compare his work to Quentin Tarantino’s, with a little Diablo Cody thrown in for good measure.

Michael Cera is the title Scott Pilgrim, a sorta-likable 22-year-old deadbeat who plays in a Toronto rock band called Sex Bob-omb. We first meet him when he’s begun dating 17-year-old Knives Chau (Ellen Wong) in a pathetic attempt to try to get over a big heartbreak, at the behest of his younger sister Stacy (the always-great Anna Kendrick) and even his admittedly dysfunctional gay roommate Wallace (Kieran Culkin). But Scott’s interest in Knives wanes quickly when he sets his sights on the new girl in town, a punk American named Ramona Flowers (Mary Elizabeth Winstead). After an awkward first exchange at a party, he’s able to score a date with her on their second encounter, which unleashes something he never bargained for… Scott must battle Ramona’s “seven evil exes” to win her for himself. We meet them as they come, from actor/skateboarder Lucas Lee (Chris Evans) to twins Kyle and Ken Katayanagi (Shota and Keita Saito) to the big one at the end, the mysterious Gideon (Jason Schwartzman).

The movie’s aesthetic is dizzyingly complex, borrowing elements from both comic books and video games. Interjections like “Wham!” and bright colorful lines signifying action and noise spring from the characters, just as they would in a panel of the former medium. And, as you’d see in the latter, superfluous points are recorded onscreen as Scott battles it out with Ramona’s exes. Likewise, special weapons are awarded to the players for certain achievements and, when Scott defeats an ex, they explode into coins. And yet I would not consider Scott Pilgrim vs. the World to be a “video game movie.” Yes, it contains many of the rapid cuts and excessive stylizations that have fostered that derogatory term. But Wright not only implements these elements far more skillfully than we’ve ever seen before, he also uses them to comment on the sensibilities of the video game era in general. The film’s style is as much about observing these young characters’ need for instant gratification and ubiquitous communication as it is offering those elements to actual teens and 20-somethings in the audience. As such, those who don’t usually like seeing such frenzy on the screen (myself included) will actually find it enlightening, not annoying here.

Wright also deserves credit for keeping the interest level so high in a rather long film (an hour and 52 minutes) that is recurrent in nature. While the weapons and the players change, Scott battles all seven of Ramona’s exes in structurally similar fights. The film could’ve easily mirrored the agonizing experience of watching two friends play a video game and not being able to participate, but instead it’s entertaining throughout. One reason for this is that Wright and Bacall’s screenplay is filled with a constant barrage of witty allusions and quips that keep the viewer on their toes. Another is that the action, for all its in-your-face relentlessness, is quite formally interesting. Perhaps Hot Fuzz was good training for Wright because, in spoofing directors as diverse Michael Bay and Sam Peckinpah, he learned what would and what wouldn’t work in his own turn at large-scale action.

The performances aren’t exceptionally memorable, but they fit the bill nicely and keep things high-energy. Cera plays a version of the geek he always is and, for the most part, it works. That he has the chops for this kind of action shows he may not just be a one-trick pony. It’s also worth noting that all but the most awkward of young adults won’t be able to live vicariously through Scott, which is often a tactic that this type of movie is able to win viewers over too easily with. Instead, Cera does a good job at playing Scott for the loser he kind of is, but ensures the audience sympathizes for the character enough to be rooting for him to win the battles and get the girl. Likewise, Mary Elizabeth Winstead understands that Ramona may not be the great prize Scott thinks she is and she certainly has intimacy issues, but she’s nevertheless the one that Scott wants. (I was about as attracted to her as a square like me could be to a girl with purple and blue hair.) In smaller parts, Culkin, Kendrick, Schwartzman, Wong, Evans, Aubrey Plaza, Brandon Routh, Thomas Jane, and Brie Larson all offer their own distinct amusements.

So why am I not about to call Scott Pilgrim vs. the World a masterpiece or even a really, really good movie? Because the heart isn’t there. It may seem like I’m contradicting myself given I just praised the fact that the movie doesn’t manipulate the viewer by creating disingenuously appealing characters. Thus, where could it find the heart I desire? I dunno; maybe it’s a Catch 22. But for me to truly love a movie, I must get an unwavering feeling in my gut that it’s something amazing and special. In Scott Pilgrim vs. the World’s case, I may cognitively think it’s those things, but the visceral passion isn’t there. Yes, the characters are interesting enough and the style is overflowing and even groundbreaking in that it’s the first movie to really use the video game aesthetic right. But, as I established years ago when Kill Bill came out, I don’t think style—even when it’s what the movie is about—can become substance. Style can be moving and memorable, but it isn’t lasting in the emotional sense.

However, it’d be a shame to end on a negative note because Scott Pilgrim vs. the World really is great fun – a roaring Friday night at the movies. Box office numbers for opening weekend have just come out as I’m writing this and I see the movie was only able to sell a paltry $10.5 million worth of tickets, which is a shame because I’m sure a broad spectrum of people would like it. For now, it will have to be content in joining She’s Out of My League as one of 2010’s best kept secrets: that rare Hollywood picture that appeals to both guys, for its action and its comedy, and girls, for its romance. I already can’t wait for Wright’s next movie.

* * *

Scott Pilgrim vs. the World (2010, USA). Produced by J. Miles Dale, Eric Gitter, Lisa Gitter, Jeff Kirschenbaum, Jared LeBoff, Adam Merims, Joe Nozemack, Nira Park, Marc Platt, Steven V. Scavelli, Adam Siegel, Scott Stuber, Ronaldo Vasconcellos, and Edgar Wright. Directed by Edgar Wright. Written for the screen by Edgar Wright and Michael Bacall, based on the graphic novels by Bryan Lee O'Malley. Starring Michael Cera, Mary Elizabeth Winstead, Ellen Wong, Kieran Culkin, Anna Kendrick, and Jason Schwarzman. Distributed by Universal Pictures. Rated PG-13, with a running time of 112 minutes.

Box Office Predictions: Weekend of 8/13

2010-08-12T16:58:00.001-07:00

I've always been just as fascinated by the numbers behind movies as I am by the movies themselves. As a result, I don't see any reason not to join the cool kids and post weekly box office predictions. And what better time than now, when I'm revamping Bucket Reviews and getting back into the groove of reviewing and 'blogging, to do so? Without further adieu...

This weekend--the last before we hit true August "dumping ground" territory--brings three relatively big releases, two of them battling it out for #1. They are Sylvester Stallone's testosterone extravaganza starring practically every male action star that's ever lived, The Expendables, and the estrogen-magnet that is Julia Roberts in Eat Pray Love, based on the bestseller. The third release is Edgar Wright's comic-book adaptation Scott Pilgrim vs. The World, starring Michael Cera, which should place between third and fifth depending how well The Other Guys and Inception hold.

While Eat Pray Love has a chance at upsetting, I'm going to agree with the general consensus and say The Expendables will come out on top. While its R-rating may hurt its take among the banned teenage audience, the picture should do well among males of all ages over 17. (Not to mention, quite a few under-17s may end up a part of the total revenue given this could prove the ideal father-son outing.) Stallone's last Rambo picture only opened to $18.2m a couple years back, but The Expendables seems to have much broader appeal, as it features a long list of other headliners (Willis, Statham, Schwarzenegger, Lundgren, Rourke, etc) and isn't as dependent on the nostalgia factor.

There aren't that many R-rated, non-technology based (AKA not The Matrix) comparisons from recent years, which may actually work out in The Expendables' favor as demand for this type of film may be high due to scarcity. An obscure, but possibly apt comparison in terms of its appeal to several generations of males may be Clint Eastwood's Gran Torino, which pulled in $29.5m in its first weekend of wide release. Perhaps more similar are the Kill Bill films, which opened to $22.1m and $25.1m ($25.7m and $28.3m accounting for inflation), respectively. But The Expendables is playing in more theaters than any of those films (3,270 vs. 2,808; 3,102; and 2,971) and seems to have quite a bit of momentum on the advertising front, so I'll go out on a limb and say it does a strong $30 million.

Speaking of momentum-filled ad campaigns, you might think Eat Pray Love bought out every 30-second spot on every TV station this past week. Sony is clearly putting a lot of money behind this one and, after a success-filled summer (The Other Guys, Salt, Grown-Ups, The Karate Kid), they seem to know what they're doing. Reviews are horrendous, but then again, women love the book and they certainly love Julia Roberts, so this one may be critic-proof.

The easiest comparable to Eat Pray Love is Julie & Julia, which opened to just over $20m targeting the same audience on the same weekend last year. However, while that picture boasted great reviews and Meryl Streep, it had nowhere near the ad push that this one has. Couple that with the fact that Eat Pray Love appeals to a broader demographic of women than Julie & Julia due to the apparent increased interest of those under 40 (thanks to Roberts). I think Eat Pray Love should definitely open better than J&J and other older skewing chick-flicks like It's Complicated ($22.1m). But it definitely doesn't have the "date movie" appeal of something like Couples Retreat ($34.3m) because no healthy male would ever want to be subjected to such drivel. I'm going to go with $27.5 million on this one, which would certainly be a success by genre standards.

Then there's Scott Pilgrim vs. the World, which is certainly what I am most anticipating as a moderately cerebral young male. The blogosphere would have you believe that this movie is as big as Harry Potter because it's made up of, well, dudes exactly like me. However, in truth, I'm sure distributor Universal would be enthralled if the movie just came in third place.

Michael Cera isn't exactly a huge draw as the lead. His top two openings are Superbad ($33m), which came out before he was a household name, and Year One ($19m), which also starred big-draw Jack Black. The only two wide-release films in which he has been the main draw are Nick & Norah's Infinite Playlist ($11.3m) and Youth in Revolt ($6.8m), but those both played to different audiences than the one Scott Pilgrim is targeting. Likewise, writer/director Edgar Wright's previous two features, Shaun of the Dead ($3.3m) and Hot Fuzz ($5.8m), played to niche audiences in smaller release-platforms and are therefore not good comparisons. I suspect Scott Pilgrim will do moderately well with teens, 20-somethings, and comic-book devotees but hardly anyone else, which optimistically puts it in line for a $15 million opening.

There are hardly any limited releases of note this weekend. Disney is testing the waters with Hayao Miyazaki's son Goro's first feature, Tales of Earthsea, in five sites. Sony Classics is putting out the Aussie drama Animal Kingdom in a similarly small release, with expansions to come. Don't count on either making more than $10,000 per site.

My prediction of what the full top 10 will look like:

1. The Expendables ... $30m ($9,174 Per Theater Average)

2. Eat Pray Love ... $27.5m ($8,761 PTA)

3. The Other Guys ... $18.8m ($5,149 PTA) -47.1%

4. Scott Pilgrim vs. the World ... $15m ($5,323 PTA)

5. Inception ... $12.8m ($4,103 PTA) -30.8%

6. Step Up 3-D ... $7.2m ($2,952 PTA) -54.5%

7. Despicable Me $6.6m ($2,262 PTA) -28.9%

8. Salt ... $6.3m ($2,223 PTA) -42.2%

9. Dinner for Schmucks ... $4.9m ($1,609 PTA) -52.8%

10. Toy Story 3 ... $2.6m ($2,133 PTA) -16.6%

Have thoughts on this new feature? Like it, don't like it, want something added? Shoot me an e-mail at webmaster@bucketreviews.com.

Review: The Other Guys (2010) - 2 Buckets

2010-08-11T15:25:00.000-07:00

Leave it to Hollywood to release two ‘80s cop movie send-ups—not exactly a burgeoning genre—within six months of each other. Thankfully, comedy team Adam McKay and Will Ferrell spare audiences another atrocity in faring better with the material than Kevin Smith, Bruce Willis, and Tracy Morgan did in their dreadful Cop Out. Then again, that isn’t much of a compliment given how abysmal Cop Out was. In fact, only by comparison to that dud does The Other Guys seem like a clever riot.

Let’s get the good out of the way first. One thing McKay and Chris Henchy admittedly get right is their use of genre references, which is far broader and more story-focused than that in Cop Out. Whereas Kevin Smith’s film just felt like a long string of nods to ‘80s clichés, The Other Guys seems like its own modern movie. For instance, at the beginning of the film, McKay and Henchy have the hilarious team of Dwayne Johnson and Samuel L. Jackson play super-cops who are so full of themselves, they leap off a skyscraper in order to catch criminals at ground level, falling to their deaths. This isn’t a recognizable reference to any particular movie, but a wildly hyperbolic parody of an ‘80s cop movie prototype. This is much funnier than a more specific approach would have been. In fact, The Other Guys leaves most of its pointed references for more obscure topics, like TLC songs.

The plot itself is built around a topical villain—Ponzi scheme artist David Ershon (Steve Coogan)—but remains within the realm of an homage thanks to protagonists Allen Gamble (Will Ferrell) and Terry Holz (Mark Wahlberg). They’re your typical low-level NYPD partners who never see any action. Allen has no aspirations beyond paperwork at the bureau and Terry’s accidental shooting of Derek Jeter during the World Series put the kibosh on his goal of becoming a distinguished officer.

Early on, Terry decides he wants to live large once again and begins suckering Allen into attempting real police work, albeit out of Allen’s ruby-red Prius. They aren’t very successful at first, but mistakenly strike gold when Allen goes after the mysteriously wealthy Ershon for scaffolding violations on his construction projects. The duo isn’t smart enough to piece together the their suspect’s fraudulent scheme right away, but somehow they slowly string evidence together. As they inch towards cracking the Ponzi scheme Ershon has cooked up—against orders to stay off the case, of course—one misadventure after another ensues.

There are several laughs to be had, but The Other Guys ends up unsatisfying. The main reason for this is the script gets progressively less funny, further descending into mindless action rather than comedy. The most entertaining segment of the film is its first ten minutes, which feature the aforementioned Johnson/Jackson antics, not leads Ferrell and Wahlberg. That’s never a good sign, as the viewer naturally becomes more impatient and in need of compelling material as a picture moves, making its absence even more bothersome. The Other Guys only runs an hour and 47 minutes, but it feels longer because the comedy is poorly paced.

Another crushing blow to the funny-factor is that Ferrell’s ridiculous antics just aren’t as amusing as they once were. His delivery of a bit in which he explains to Wahlberg how a family of tuna could hunt a lion probably would have been hilarious five years ago, but now it just feels like Ferrell rehashing a previous performance. As a staunch defender of Ferrell over the years, I’ve previously never wanted to join detractors in commenting: “Yes, we get it – you’re obnoxious, dumb, and do not understand other people’s emotions, what’s the big deal?” But The Other Guys sadly had me ready to scream those words at the screen on a few occasions. Ironically, Ferrell proves the funniest here when he’s at his most understated.

Then there’s McKay’s weird inclusion of political commentary, which misses being interesting and just seems out-of-place. There are several strangely serious anti-corporate jabs throughout The Other Guys, capped off with an end-credit sequence full of statistics about bank bailouts, Ponzi schemes, and other related topics. I’m all for comedy being topical and resonant, but McKay just throws in these ideas haphazardly and the result is that the movie always seems to be hinting at something grander but that never confronts it. Viewers who read McKay’s regular politically-charged Tweets might cast their own projections on this aspect of the film, but looking at it objectively, it just seems like a vague distraction to the story.

Ultimately, The Other Guys feels like it would have been better off as a series of shorts on McKay and Ferrell’s FunnyorDie.com so as to not wear out its welcome. While that may have led to budgetary constraints making Jackson and Johnson’s big gag at the beginning impossible, the rest of the truly funny material would’ve remained intact as it doesn’t stem from expensive action. Instead, it’s the little things, like Michael Keaton’s police chief, who makes constant humorous references to the fact he must work a second job at Bed Bath & Beyond to put his bisexual son through a frou-frou program at NYU. Unfortunately, these are exactly what disappear as the movie reaches its bullet-filled finale, succumbing to mediocrity. Sure, The Other Guys is better than Cop Out, but with so many lame ‘80s cop flicks surely about to find new life on Blu-Ray, why do we need new ones at all?

* * *

The Other Guys (2010, USA). Produced by Joshua Church, William M. Connor, Patrick Crowley, Jessica Elbaum, Will Ferrell, Chris Henchy, David B. Householter, Adam McKay, Rizelle Mendoza, Kevin J. Messick, and Jimmy Miller. Directed by Adam McKay. Written for the screen by Adam McKay and Chris Henchy. Starring Will Ferrell, Mark Wahlberg, Steve Coogan, Eva Mendes, Michael Keaton, Samuel L. Jackson, Dwayne Johnson, and Lindsay Sloane. Distributed by Columbia Pictures. Rated PG-13, with a running time of 107 minutes.

Review: The Kids Are All Right (2010) - 3 1/2 Buckets

2010-08-10T13:07:00.000-07:00

What we have here is that increasingly rare type of movie that trusts its actors to flesh out its characters properly. The script, penned by Stuart Blumberg and director Lisa Cholodenko, doesn’t see the need to spell out every one of these people’s motivations in dialogue because, after all, life isn’t like that. Thankfully, the cast is top-notch—established veterans Annette Bening, Julianne Moore, and Mark Ruffalo join promising newcomers Mia Wasikowska (Alice in Wonderland) and Josh Hutcherson (Bridge to Terabithia)—and the result is a film that tells us more about people than any other so far this year.

You wouldn’t think I’d be saying that about an agenda film, much less a progressive agenda film I’m keen to disagree with. The reason I’m extolling such praise is because The Kids Are All Right, quite simply, is not an agenda film despite its subject matter and its Hollywood funding. While I’m sure the movement to defeat Prop 8, fresh off its victory in a California court, would love to make the case that the years-long relationship between Moore’s Jules and Bening’s Nic makes a good case for gay marriage, they’re ignoring the point.

The movie itself simply exists and lets the viewer make his own decisions, to the point at which politics are a non-issue. Yes, it was made by progressives on a progressive topic, but it focuses on ideas that all viewers can relate to (family, relationships) and not more alienating ones. In a less authentic movie, a skeptic might even have reason to question the statement being made by characters driving a Prius. But here, it’s quite clear that hip and educated Los Angeles teens like Wasikowska’s Joni and Hutcherson’s Laser would naturally be sporting the popular hybrid. Just as organic, surprisingly, is Cholodenko’s graphic depiction (still clearly censored for the MPAA) of not only female, but male gay sex.

Now down to what matters, the nitty-gritty of this terrific story and its characters. Teenagers Joni and Laser have grown up under the roof of their loving, but very different moms. Nic is the disciplinarian – a control-freak who makes sure everything’s in order when she gets home from working long shifts as a doctor. Jules, on the other hand, mostly stays at home with the kids and floats from one flimsy small-business idea to the next; this time, it’s landscaping.

Matters complicate and pre-existing frictions are unleashed, however, when now 18-year-old Joni, at underage Laser’s request, seeks to meet their sperm-donor. (Jules and Nic each pooled from the same man’s genes to conceive the kids.) After a few phone calls, the teens—unbeknownst to their parents, who would flip if they found out—find themselves meeting Ruffalo’s lackadaisical, motorcycle riding Paul for an awkward, locally-grown meal. (He’s a gardener and aspiring restaurateur.) Next, after Laser spills the beans to Jules and Nic, the whole family meets Paul in just as awkward a fashion. Shortly thereafter, we realize Nic may be an alcoholic, Jules and Paul have started to have sex, and the kids are feeling smothered by these less-“all right” adults. Chaotic, yes, but doesn’t the American family endure?

This is not exactly a groundbreaking story by itself—we’ve seen heterosexual variants of it a million times before—but it becomes one thanks to the actors. While Cholodenko enriches the film with drama, the performances are complex enough that they’d remain just as believable if the movie were a verite-style mock-doc. Contrary to what progressives might suggest for political gain in the heat of an argument, lesbian relationships are certainly not “just like” straight ones. They, of course, come with their own distinct characteristics because of the unique sensibilities of women. This fact makes the work of Moore and Bening, two straight actresses, all the more remarkable in that they capture this foreign dynamic in performances that feel effortless and natural. Certainly, they had the—ermmm—first-hand knowledge of Cholodenko in their director, but the relationship the two capture is nonetheless remarkably fresh and authentic. This is important, because when their partnership is flung into crisis-mode due to Jules’ infidelity, the experience takes on a visceral power that it would not have achieved without a strong baseline.

Consider also the fact that simply showing what is—or, most pessimistically, once was—a stable lesbian relationship functions as something far more powerful and dare I say progressive than anything more inherently political would have. As one who is somewhat isolated in the California bubble of acceptance, I must remember that The Kids Are All Right has come out at a time when a large population of Americans still don’t accept the gay lifestyle in general. While it’s safe to say the bulk of this population won’t be seeing it, Cholodenko’s film functions as a desirably progressive, even informative cultural text in this regard. Yes, Jules and Nic certainly aren’t an ideal example of relationship health—in fact, one of the kids even observes that their “perfect gay image” is tarnished in the third act—but it’s impossible to invalidate their accomplishments as a couple.

But I realize it’s a shame that properly reviewing this complex picture requires reducing it to the gay element. Just as integral to the movie’s success are Joni and Laser, excellently played by Wasikowska and Hutcherson, and their interactions with Paul. From the teens’ first strained attempts to figure out exactly what it is they’re searching for in their biological father to the ensuing heartbreak when he causes the family turmoil, Wasikowska and Hutcherson capture their characters so realistically it was almost uncomfortable for someone so close in age as myself to watch. And yet, Joni and Laser are clearly pliable, as any healthy member of their age-group is. Ruffalo plays no small part in the success of these two as characters; he refrains from ever succumbing to “lovable loser” status and plays all Paul’s flaws for what they are. Even if The Kids Are All Right doesn’t get everything right—though I might argue it does—one certainly cannot fault its pitch-perfect human element.

Raw and observant, The Kids Are All Right stands as one of the few semi-big budget American indies (and certainly Sundance entries) that doesn’t rely on “quirky” situations or ridiculous character eccentricities to move the plot along. Instead, the audience is provided a journey in the company of rich characters experiencing life as it comes – all that a movie should be and more.

* * *

The Kids Are All Right (2010, USA). Produced by Charles E. Bush Jr., Gary Gilbert, J. Todd Harris, Jordan Horowitz, Neil Katz, Todd J. Labarowski, Jeffrey Levy-Hinte, Riva Marker, Camille Moreau, Joel Newton, Anne O'Shea, Celine Rattray, Laura Rosenthal, Andy Sawyer, Steven Saxton, Christy Scott Cashman, Ron Stein, Bergen Swanson, and Daniela Taplin Lundberg. Directed by Lisa Cholodenko. Written for the screen by Lisa Cholodenko and Stuart Blumberg. Starring Julianne Moore, Annette Bening, Mia Wasikowska, Josh Hutcherson, and Mark Ruffalo. Distributed by Focus Features. Rated R, with a running time of 106 minutes.

Review: Dinner for Schmucks (2010) - 2 Buckets

2010-08-09T16:25:00.001-07:00

In general, it’s a good thing when the viewer is surprised by a comedy, a sign that said comedy is doing its job. When a laugh arrives at a moment the viewer would least expect it, for instance, it may seem funnier than it actually is. The ensuing sense of uproar could be dismissed as artificial by cinema purists, but I find that it’s satisfying when the surprise is done right. Dinner for Schmucks, on the other hand, is a good example of how a comedy should not surprise the viewer.

The premise is rife with potential for nasty, mean comedy that goes straight for the jugular. Paul Rudd plays a deep-down good guy who, in order to climb the corporate ladder, must moonlight as a jerk by finding the “biggest idiot” he can to bring to a mockery-filled company dinner-party. His ability to score a promotion hinges on how much he can entertain his boss.

Going into the movie, I felt ready to indulge my dark side for two hours by playing along with the soulless execs at the party. What’s the harm in laughing at idiots when it’s all just make-believe, right? And with Rudd (who’s uncharacteristically good at capturing the fine line between likable bro and the despondent asshole) and Steve Carell (born to play men even more idiotic than Michael Scott) at the helm, how could Dinner for Schmucks steer me wrong?

But instead of running in the right direction and surprising with unique idiot-gags, director Jay Roach (Meet the Parents, Austin Powers) and writers David Guion and Michael Handelman surprise by going in the complete opposite direction and ruining a perfectly good idea. The result is a picture that seeks to be heartfelt (in a phony, Hollywood kind of way) by teaching Rudd’s Tim that it’s not OK to abuse uhh… less-smart guys like Carell’s rat-taxidermy connoisseur Larry for selfish purposes. Unfortunately, this means the movie is not only less funny than it would’ve been had it been meaner, but also that it feels like it wants to have things two ways. Dinner for Schmucks wants us to sympathize for simple ‘ol Larry, but also realizes his blunt stupidity is the only thing funny about the material so it ultimately exploits him just as much as Tim does.

Yes, there are still several laughs. How could there not be with this cast, which, in addition to the mighty Rudd and Carell, features comedy-prodigy Zach Galifianakis and Flight of the Conchords deadpan-artiste Jermaine Clement? But they are, as any rational viewer would expect, mostly centered on how moronically Larry and his “extraordinary” counterparts behave at the title dinner. As a result, even when you’re laughing, you’re either wishing the movie had gone farther in this funny direction or dreading the lame morality-lesson that will undoubtedly follow.

Worse still is the ultimate feeling Dinner for Schmucks leaves with the viewer: that it isn’t trying. Instead of doing something crafty with an interesting idea—actually taken from a 1998 French film that will be fun to rent for comparison—it settles for Hollywood clichés. Even with some enjoyable moments, there’s nothing here reflective of the outside-the-box comedy its cast and crew are capable of. Typically, I’d dismiss it as a good rental—not substantial enough to merit a theatrical viewing but inoffensive and sorta-OK—but this time I just can’t approve of such mediocrity. As alluring as Dinner for Schmucks might seem on paper, it proves just as lazy as any other Hollywood comedy.

* * *

Dinner for Schmucks (2010, USA). Produced by Gary Barber, Sacha Baron Cohen, Roger Birnbaum, Laurie McDonald, Walter F. Parkes, Jon Poll, Jay Roach, Amy Sayres, and Francis Veber. Directed by Jay Roach. Written for the screen by David Guion and Michael Handelman, based on the film "The Dinner Game" written by Francis Veber. Starring Paul Rudd, Steve Carell, Zach Galifianakis, Jermaine Clement, and Stephanie Szostak. Distributed by Paramount Pictures. Rated R, with a running time of 114 minutes.

2010 Oscar Picks & Predictions UPDATED WITH WINNERS

2010-03-07T11:49:00.000-08:00

Hey folks. While Bucket Reviews is only partially up and running--I'm writing a few reviews a week and working hard on The BucketCast with co-host Michael Lester--there's no way I could resist offering my picks and predictions for tonight's Oscars. Keep in mind that I didn't see a few notable nominees due to illness (Invictus, A Single Man, Nine, The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus, Coco Before Chanel, and The Last Station all escaped my grasp). But I'd say I'm still pretty qualified to comment, and maybe I can help you in your Oscar pool. So without further adieu...

My Final Predictions Tally: 14 out of 24 (58%). I've done worse before, but this was NOT a great showing for me! I should have stuck with the prognosticators and realized a Hurt Locker sweep.

Best Picture

The Nominees: "Avatar", "The Blind Side", "District 9", "An Education", "The Hurt Locker", "Inglourious Basterds", "Precious", "A Serious Man", "Up", and "Up in the Air".

My Prediction: "Avatar". The Hurt Locker may be the "chosen" one, but I think it'll be tough for voters to rid their minds of the fact that Avatar is the biggest movie ever made, and it was pretty damn good, too.

My Pick: "Inglourious Basterds". Tarantino made his best film to date and he deserves to take home the trophy. But, barring a miracle vote-split between Avatar and The Hurt Locker due to the new Academy tabulation rules, this WWII-set Western doesn't have a shot. Look for it to be honored in the Supporting Actor and Original Screenplay categories instead.

Winner: "The Hurt Locker". I guess the "chosen one" was going to win after all!

Best Director

The Nominees: James Cameron for "Avatar", Kathryn Bigelow for "The Hurt Locker", Quentin Tarantino for "Inglourious Basterds", Lee Daniels for "Precious", Jason Reitman for "Up in the Air".

My Prediction: Kathryn Bigelow for "The Hurt Locker". There's no doubt that she'll be the first woman to take home the golden trophy, and deservedly so.

My Pick: James Cameron for "Avatar". Ironically, here's where Avatar really deserves the love. Cameron helmed a sprawling, massive opus with so much control and precision it's just astounding.

Winner: Kathryn Bigelow for "The Hurt Locker"

Best Actor

The Nominees: Jeff Bridges for "Crazy Heart", George Clooney for "Up in the Air", Colin Firth for "A Single Man", Morgan Freeman for "Invictus", and Jeremy Renner for "The Hurt Locker".

My Prediction: Jeff Bridges for "Crazy Heart". A lock.

My Pick: Jeremy Renner for "The Hurt Locker". I love Bridges' work, but Renner edges him out, if only because it may be easier for me to recognize the grandness of the performance because it's so physical and hangs on the actor's sleeve.

Winner: Jeff Bridges for "Crazy Heart".

Best Actress

The Nominees: Sandra Bullock for "The Blind Side", Helen Mirren for "The Last Station", Carey Mulligan for "An Education", Gabourey Sidibe for "Precious", and Meryl Streep for "Julie & Julia".

My Prediction: Sandra Bullock for "The Blind Side". It's pretty certain, but there could be a Streep or (in my dreams) Mulligan upset.

My Pick: Carey Mulligan for "An Education". By far and away the best performance and, I think it's the one that would win if Hollywood politics weren't so deeply involved in the voting process.

Winner: Sandra Bullock for "The Blind Side". Is it just me, or was that speech taken from an early draft from Bullock's Miss Congeniality?

Best Supporting Actor

The Nominees: Matt Damon for "Invictus", Woody Harrelson for "The Messenger", Christopher Plummer for "The Last Station, Stanley Tucci for "The Lovely Bones", Christoph Waltz for "Inglourious Basterds".

My Prediction: Christoph Waltz for "Inglourious Basterds". Another lock.

My Pick: Christoph Waltz for "Inglourious Basterds". He gave what may end up the singular most iconic performance of 2009.

Winner: Christoph Waltz for "Inglourious Basterds". How disappointing was it that his speech didn't live up to those that he delivered at previous awards shows?

Best Supporting Actress

The Nominees: Penélope Cruz for "Nine", Vera Farmiga for "Up in the Air", Maggie Gyllenhaal for "Crazy Heart", Anna Kendrick for "Up in the Air", and Mo'Nique for "Precious".

My Prediction: Mo'Nique for "Precious". Locks, locks, and more locks.

My Pick: Maggie Gyllenhaal for "Crazy Heart". Frankly, at this point, I'm ABM (Anybody But Mo'Nique). Yeah, she was brilliant in Precious, but listening to the woman deliver yet another heavy-handed acceptance speech is a miserable (if inevitable) sounding prospect. An unexpected Gyllenhaal or Anna Kendrick upset would be so blissful I might spontaneously combust if it were to happen.

Winner: Mo'Nique for "Precious".

Best Original Screenplay

The Nominees: "The Hurt Locker", "Inglourious Basterds", "The Messenger", "A Serious Man", and "Up".

My Prediction: "Inglourious Basterds". I have enough love for Tarantino dialogue that I'm not even considering the potential Hurt Locker spoiler people have been talking about.

My Pick: "Inglourious Basterds". But, I must say, it's a solid category all-around, my quibbles with "Up" aside.

Winner: "The Hurt Locker". Blah!

Best Adapted Screenplay

The Nominees: "District 9", "An Education", "In the Loop", "Precious", and "Up in the Air"
My Prediction: "Up in the Air". Yet another lock!
My Pick: "Up in the Air". Yeah, Jason Reitman may be a bit of a hot-head, but he's got the goods to back it up. This was one terrifically written movie. We'll have to see if he and co-writer Sheldon Turner get along or continue a rumored feud when they accept their statues.
Winner: "Precious". What a surprise! I'm not complaining -- Fletcher's speech was heartfelt. But one wonders if the bad press about Reitman was responsible for Up in the Air's loss here.

Best Film Editing
The Nominees: "Avatar", "District 9", "The Hurt Locker", "Inglourious Basterds", and "Precious".
My Prediction: "Avatar". Isn't it funny that the longest movie always tends to win?
My Pick: "Inglourious Basterds". Along with Precious, it's the only one of the nominees I didn't have certain problems with in the editing category (i.e. the way-too-long final battle in Avatar and the off-the-rails third-act in The Hurt Locker).
Winner: "The Hurt Locker".

Best Animated Feature
The Nominees: "Coraline", "Fantastic Mr. Fox", "The Princess and the Frog", "The Secret of Kells", and "Up".
My Prediction: "Up". Are there enough locks already? Pixar triumphs every Oscars they're in...
My Pick: "Coraline". It's the only one of the nominees I'm a HUGE fan of. Why didn't Ponyo or Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs make the cut?
Winner: "Up".

Best Art Direction
The Nominees: "Avatar", "The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus", "Nine", "Sherlock Holmes", "The Young Victoria".
My Prediction: "Avatar".
My Pick: "Avatar".
Winner: "Avatar".

Best Cinematography
The Nominees: "Avatar", "Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince", "The Hurt Locker", "Inglourious Basterds", and "The White Ribbon".
My Prediction: "Avatar".
My Pick: "Inglourious Basterds". Avatar may be the most technical of the bunch, but I'll stand by Tarantino's precise opus as the best lensed.
Winner: "Avatar".

Best Documentary Feature
The Nominees: "Burma VJ", "The Cove", "Food, Inc.", "The Most Dangerous Man in America: Daniel Ellsburg and the Pentagon Papers", and "Which Way Home".
My Prediction: "The Cove". What was I saying about locks again?
My Pick: "Burma VJ". It's absolutely heartstopping doc that you should make an effort to see when it's out on DVD!
Winner: "The Cove". I felt so bad that director Louis Psihoyos, who's so passionate about the film and the cause, was cut off before he even got to speak! They should've brought the guy back up because, frankly, docs matter too.

Best Documentary Short
The Nominees: "China's Unnatural Disaster: The Tears of the Sichuan Province", "The Last Campaign of Governor Booth Gardner", "The Last Truck: Closing of a GM Plant", Music by Prudence", and "Rabit a la Berlin".
My Prediction: "The Last Truck: Closing of a GM Plant". Your guess is as good as mine, however -- I'm just going by the titles on this one.
My Pick: n/a -- Why don't they make these available on VOD like the Animated and Live Action Shorts?
Winner: "Music by Prudence".

Best Animated Short
The Nominees: "French Roast", "Granny O'Grimm's Sleeping Beauty", "The Lady and the Reaper (La Dama y la Muerte)", "Logorama", and "A Matter of Loaf and Death".
My Prediction: "A Matter of Loaf and Death". Just by virtue of the fact that Wallace and Gromit are an established name in animation and this is a pretty fun outing for the duo... but in my dreams there'll be an upset by...
My Pick: "The Lady and the Reaper (La Dama y la Muerte)". It's visually astounding in every shot, energetic and surprising at every turn, blissfully funny--just perfect. Hope it wins!
Winner: "Logorama". The worst of the bunch. The lesson: if your film contains a bunch of anti-corporate messages, you can win an Oscar too!

Best Live Action Short
The Nominees: "The Door", "Instead of Abracadabra", "Kavi", "Miracle Fish", and "The New Tenants".
My Prediction: "The Door". I haven't gotten around to watching these yet--we'll cover them on next week's BucketCast once I have--but film-friends tell me this is the best of the bunch and will win.
My Pick: n/a -- Again, stay tuned for next week's BucketCast to find out.
Winner: "The New Tenants". Look forward to seeing this one!

Best Costume Design
The Nominees: "Bright Star", "Coco Before Chanel", "The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus", "Nine", and "The Young Victoria".
My Prediction: "The Young Victoria". When in doubt, go with the most lavish, British costumes!
My Pick: "Bright Star". It's not as showy as the other nominees, but the costumes here really allowed director Jane Campion to present us the most naturalistic vision of this time period the screen has ever seen.
Winner: "The Young Victoria". A speech with some food for thought -- how about that!

Best Makeup
The Nominees: "Il Divo", "Star Trek", and "The Young Victoria".
My Prediction: "Star Trek", just 'cuz it's more elaborate than the other two.
My Pick: "Star Trek".
Winner: "Star Trek".

Best Foreign Language Film
The Nominees: "Ajami", "El Secreto en Sus Ojos", "The Milk of Sorrow", "Un Prophete", and "The White Ribbon".
My Prediction: "Un Prophete". While common wisdom would tell you that "The White Ribbon" will win, I think the momentum has been moving in the direction of this just-released French film.
My Pick: n/a -- You know it was a down Oscar season for me when I didn't see a single one of the always-excellent Foreign Film nominees. But so it goes, I'll catch up with them soon enough.
Winner: "El Secreto en Sus Ojos". Oh, how the rules of the award--that voters have to see all five nominees--can result in surprise victories!

Best Original Score
The Nominees: "Avatar", "Fantastic Mr. Fox", "The Hurt Locker", "Sherlock Holmes", and "Up".
My Prediction: "Up". Because the brilliant Michael Giacchino deserves to receive his due.
My Pick: "The Fantastic Mr. Fox". While I love Giacchino's work and won't be unhappy at all to see him finally win, it was Alexendre Desplat's wonderful, zany score for the Wes Anderson animated film that I loved the most.
Winner: "Up".

Best Original Song
The Nominees: "Almost There" from "The Princess and the Frog", "Down in New Orleans" from "The Princess and the Frog", "Loin de Paname" from "Paris 36", "Take it All" from "Nine", and "The Weary Kind" from "Crazy Heart".
My Prediction: "The Weary Kind" from "Crazy Heart". Another sure thing.
My Pick: "The Weary Kind" from "Crazy Heart". It is indeed the best.
Winner: "The Weary Kind" from "Crazy Heart".

Best Sound Editing
The Nominees: "Avatar", "The Hurt Locker", "Inglourious Basterds", "Star Trek", "Up".
My Prediction: "Avatar". It seems like it'll sweep the technicals, but I wouldn't be surprised if The Hurt Locker or even Star Trek won.
My Pick: "Avatar".
Winner: "The Hurt Locker". I think you can join me in giving this a colossal "WTF!?"

Best Sound Mixing
The Nominees: "Avatar", "The Hurt Locker", "Inglourious Basterds", "Star Trek", "Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen".
My Prediction: "Avatar". See the above category.
My Pick: "Star Trek". The blue guys can't win everything, can they? This is the best sound I heard all year, and it's brilliantly preserved on the Blu-Ray's Dolby 5.1 soundtrack.
Winner: "The Hurt Locker". Again, no offense to the movie, but WTF!?

Best Visual Effects
The Nominees: "Avatar", "District 9", and "Star Trek".
My Prediction: "Avatar". I'd suspect ballot-fraud for the whole show if one of the other two won.
My Pick: "Avatar". Because, you know, it was kind of the best.
Winner: "Avatar".

The Film to Take Home the Most Oscars: "Avatar", with 7. Which is really an achievement given it wasn't nominated in many categories that it perhaps should have been. Look for it to sweep the technicals. Winner: "The Hurt Locker" with 6. Wild that Cameron's technical behemoth only took home 3!

And that's that, folks. Join me in watching the Oscars live tonight at 5 PM PST / 8 PM EST, only on ABC.

Video Review: ALIENS IN THE ATTIC

2009-07-31T16:45:00.000-07:00

BucketCast: Episode 24

2009-07-10T23:49:00.000-07:00

From left-to-right: Reid, Michael, Danny, and Eric.

Today's BucketCast is just a barrel 'o goodies. It's a Subman powwow with Friday regular Reid Ackerman (Twitter), plus Michael "Retrospectives Guy" Lester and BucketCast virgin Eric Bruck (Twitter).

First, we talk Bruno (my full review to come tomorrow), which we all caught at the local Midnight show. Then, the discussion opens to the other new releases I Love You Beth Cooper and The Hurt Locker (expanding to 50 cities).

Finally, we scheme our ComicCon schedules up for Thursday and Friday. After all, the schedules are out now at the official website!

So what are you waiting for? Listen!

And S&R if you haven't already. You know the drill.

BucketCast: Episode 23

2009-07-10T14:26:00.000-07:00

On today's Podcast (well... yesterday's... the Bruno midnight festivities got in the way of a punctual post), Michael and I once again do retrospectives, this time for Tod Browning's Dracula (1931) and Jonathan Demme's Stop Making Sense (1984). It's a good episode -- be sure to listen.

Also, as you may have noticed, the BucketCast just spent another week without daily episodes. This is because I'm thinking about re-working it--and the whole Bucket Reviews site in general--and have been devoting the time to exploring my options. If you would like to see more/less of something on the BucketCast, or something new altogether, please don't hesitate to e-mail me at webmaster@bucketreviews.com or contact me at Twitter handle "bucketreviews".

Your support is appreciated, and the sliver of the BucketCast audience I am able to track is really more than I could have hoped for. Now S & R if you haven't, why don't you!

BucketCast: Episode 22

2009-07-04T14:05:00.001-07:00

On a special Saturday edition of the weekly BucketCast retrospectives show, Danny and Michael discuss picks Anatomy of a Murder (1959) and Do the Right Thing (1989), both of which had significant anniversaries this week.

Apologies for the notch-below-average audio quality; a new mic stand is on order to rectify the situation.

S & R, please.

BucketCast: Episode 21

2009-07-03T23:49:00.000-07:00

Reid (left) and Danny (right), deep in Podcasting Nirvana. Video will soon be posted to the "bucketreviews" YouTube channel.

First off, apologies are in order: I'm sorry there has been no BucketCast posted since the Transformers 2 video over a week ago. The Los Angeles Film Festival really took it out of me (the remainder of my coverage will be posted over the course of the next week).

But the BucketCast is back with a vengeance, and from now on will be delivered to your computer the standard six days a week.

On today's comeback episode, Friday regular Reid Ackerman and I broadcast from Subman. Because the year is exactly halfway over, we dish on our Top 10 favorite movies at the mid-point. What are they? Tune in to find out!

And tomorrow: a special Saturday edition of the weekly retrospectives with Michael Lester, in which we discuss Otto Preminger's Anatomy of a Murder and Spike Lee's Do the Right Thing, both of which had significant anniversaries this week. Stay tuned for that.

S & R. You know you want to.

BucketCast: Episode 20 (Video Edition)

2009-06-26T01:11:00.000-07:00

In a special video edition of the BucketCast, Michael and I tackle the local midnight show of Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen. Remember to watch in HD. Otherwise, sit back and enjoy! Please send your comments in to webmaster@bucketreviews.com or Twitter handle "bucketreviews", especially on whether or not we should do another videocast. And please rate us 5-stars on YouTube!

Part One

Part Two

2009 Los Angeles Film Festival: Day One

2009-06-21T18:17:00.001-07:00

If you read my coverage of last year’s Los Angeles Film Festival, you’ll remember that I was not exactly thrilled by the movies I saw. That’s not to say that good movies didn’t play—it was where I discovered both Man on Wire and Boy A, two of my favorite films of the whole year, and there were loads of terrific choices I didn’t catch until later—but rather that I had bad luck with my selections. Going into this year’s chapter of the festival, I was optimistic, set on avoiding the same fate. After Day One, it was clear I needed to rethink my strategy because I was already batting 0-for-3.

Adhen is beautifully shot and tackles a potent, topical issue, but it’s a frustratingly incomplete movie. The setting is a rundown palette factory in France, where working-class immigrant Algerians are exploited by their boss, Mao (Rabah Ameur-Zaïmeche, the co-writer/director). Mao gets away with paying his predominantly Muslim crew bottom-of-the-barrel wages by erecting a mosque in their favor, using the power of religion to ensure they don’t question him. He appoints the Imam (Larbi Zekkour) himself, using the man to convert the staff so his leverage will further. But there’s an uprising in store, as two factory mechanics (Salim Ameur- Zaïmeche and Abel Jafri) rally behind new Muslim Titi (Christian Milia-Darmezin) in questioning Mao’s religiosity and lack of care for the employees.

The film’s quasi-documentary, fly-on-the-wall style is both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, it allows Adhen to stand out as another enlightening piece of realism in a growing body of cinematic representations of Muslim immigrants in France. The film feels completely authentic, and those adventurous American audiences willing to watch it will no doubt learn quite a bit (I did). Then again, this is potentially dangerous if Adhen is not an accurate blanket representation of working-class Algerians in France, which is very possible. It is a rather political film, and I’m sure the opposing side has something to say about it. But that’s not the big problem with the way the message is conveyed. Instead, it’s that factory life is painfully dull and, no matter how realistically depicted, it wears on the viewer. Yes, this sense of wear is part of the point of Adhen, but I’m unwilling to accept the notion that a film can be effective solely by capturing boredom. The subject matter may seem similar to Laurent Cantet’s exceptional The Class on paper, but I assure you, the comparisons end there. There are certainly isolated moments of engagement in the picture—a shocking scene in which Titi circumcises himself to become a “real Muslim,” a beautiful sequence set on a river, et cetera—but on the whole it's too tedious for its own good.

Nonetheless, there’s no denying that Adhen boasts its share of accomplishments. Cinematographer Irina Lubtchansky works with the confinements of the factory, tightly photographing through each orifice between stacks of red palettes, and captures the toils of working-class life. It’s true that the images in Adhen often seem too perfect for the gritty material, but without them, the movie wouldn’t be near as distinct or reflective of the social paralysis of its characters. Also strong are the performances, which are all too easily taken for granted because they appropriately lack any grand-standing and keep things authentic. It’s a shame that the partially-successful picture may have been doomed to failure from its inception in that making a fully engrossing movie on daily-life in a supremely laborious, dull setting is a paradox. In order to really work, Adhen would have had to transform into something else entirely. The film may have many rewarding elements, but most audiences are likely to be snoozing before they recognize them. 2-1/2 Buckets out of 4.

As most festival-goers filed into the Mann Festival theater for Davis Guggenheim’s documentary on the electric guitar starring Jack White, Jimmy Paige, and The Edge—It Might Get Loud—I decided to counterprogram with one of LAFF’s “Guilty Pleasures” selections, Weather Girl. Unfortunately, standing five feet from supporting actress Kaitlin Olson on the red carpet was more exciting for this “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia” fan than anything in the movie itself. After a small theatrical release, Weather Girl will premiere on the Lifetime Channel in October and, boy, will it be right at home there.

My crappy, covert camera-phone capture of Sweet Dee in the flesh, greeting reporters on the red carpet.

The title newscaster is Sylvia (Tricia O’Kelly). In the opening sequence of the film, she has an on-air eruption, deciding she’ll call out quintessentially moronic anchors Dale (Mark Harmon) and Sherry (Olson) on numerous character flaws on the air. Most notably, Dale weaseled his way into a sex-based relationship with Sylvia, only to leave her for his bumbling idiot of a co-host. While the scene leaves Sylvia without a job and all over the Internet in embarrassing form, things slowly but surely turn around for our heroine, as they always do in this type of movie. Circumstance forces her to move in with her brother, Walt (Ryan Devlin), who allows his web-designer friend and Sylvia’s soon-to-be love-interest Byron (Patrick J. Adams) over to use the Internet while his is down. On the emotional rebound, Sylvia once again faces a tough decision when she’s inevitably offered her job back at the station to improve sweeps ratings.

While Weather Girl is never a painful sit, it never fully realizes itself as a romance, a comedy, or a combination of the two. This problem stems from the way Sylvia is written. In the opening sequence, she is established as a caricature rather than a character, grand-standing in climactic fashion as if only to make the audience hoot and holler at the drama. While very glib, this technique would be OK if writer/director Blayne Weaver’s only goal was to make the viewer laugh at Sylvia the entire time. But instead he targets a more sympathetic portrayal—especially as the movie goes on—and his expectation that we simultaneously treat her as an over-written ploy for laughs and a real human proves impossible. Needless to say, Sylvia’s ensuing lack of authentic emotion means her romance with Byron comes off as artificial, not sweet or compelling. Actress O’Kelly is a champ throughout and tackles the role as best she can, but her attempts are futile within the confines of Weaver’s script.

Yes, there are select enjoyable moments in Weather Girl, most of which involve actors Harmon and Olson hamming it up for the camera as all-too-realistic news anchors. But given Will Ferrell and Adam McKay’s legendary Anchorman already stands as the definitive broadcasting comedy, this disjointed melodrama’s attempts to engage the audience in that way seem unnecessary. If you’re bored one day and find Weather Girl on Lifetime when channel-surfing, it’s an acceptable time-killer, but there isn’t any other reason to see it. 2 Buckets out of 4; screens again on Weds, Jun 24 at 9:30 p.m. at the Landmark.

Then again, Weather Girl has nothing on Matthew Bissonnette’s Passenger Side when it comes to empty caricatures. The film stars Adam Scott (Knocked Up, Step Brothers) and Joel Bissonnette as brothers Michael and Tobey, who are not so much people as they are mouthpieces for dialogue. The only background the viewer gets is that it’s Michael’s birthday, and he has canceled the plans he had with his girlfriend so he can drive recovering drug-addict Tobey around L.A. on mysterious “errands” all day. And drive they do, from Echo Park to Glendale to Joshua Tree to the Valley to Long Beach and back. They seem to sit in a lot of traffic, but nonetheless cover at least 350 miles in about 12 hours. I didn’t know that was possible in this town, especially when one is forced to take a detour to rush a kid with two severed fingers to a hospital and to sit down for a long lunch with a lonely old lady.

Had the conversation or the main performances been particularly deep or authentic, then Passenger Side could have been an interesting and/or emotional experience. But they’re not. That’s not to say that there’s anything inherently wrong with the two elements, other than perhaps their overextended desire to conform to the indie standard for "quirkiness." They’re simply unremarkable and therefore don’t contribute much to an already unremarkable movie. For instance, when we find out what Tobey is actually looking for on this long (albeit circular) journey, the revelation could have led to some quietly poignant scenes between the brothers but instead the ensuing material is just flat. At times, it seems as though leads Scott and Bissonnette completely misread the script, crafting restrained portrayals under the assumption there was something underneath that wasn’t actually present.

The one regard in which the movie really works is as a love letter to Greater Los Angeles. Joining the recent Drag Me to Hell as a cinematic representation of a gentrified Echo Park in the first scenes, the film expands in geography as it moves and does so beautifully. Director Bissonnette doesn’t show L.A. in an unrealistically picturesque way, as the movies often do, but rather with the sort of jaded discovery that makes the places in the city what they are. Aiding this style is D.P. Jonathon Cliff’s humid, distinct way of shooting each location. In fact, I dare say that a momentarily-featured, blank doughnut shop exterior has more personality than either Michael or Tobey. The journey in Passenger Side is indeed far more interesting than the men taking it, and that’s reason enough why the movie doesn’t succeed. 2 Buckets out of 4; screens again on Thurs, Jun 25 at 4:30 p.m. at the Landmark.

Unfortunately, Day Two of LAFF didn’t prove much better than the first, but I’ll provide more on that later. Now, I must scurry off to Westwood for the pair of Day Three viewings on my slate.

BucketCast: Episode 19

2009-06-20T12:11:00.000-07:00

Today's BucketCast is little more than a recitation of Friday's box office figures, as predicted by Leonard Klady at Movie City News, and Exhibitor Relations' weekend projections, but it's my hope that you'd rather listen to my soft, sultry voice than read them off a chart yourself.

Why so bland? Well, I'm up here doing lots of LA Film Festival stuff and don't have the time to do a substantive if you want me to crank out some festival coverage too.

So take this as an opportunity to catch up on older BucketCasts if you haven't already. I highly recommend yesterday's episode with Reid on potential summer breakthroughs and Episode 8, in which Michael and I talked David Carradine movies.

S&R.

BucketCast: Episode 18

2009-06-19T15:28:00.000-07:00

That's right: as the picture on the left featuring Subby artisan Dustin would indicate, today's podcast is brought to you from Subman with go-to Friday guy Reid Ackerman.

It was pre-recorded, for all of you are questioning how I magically am in both L.A. and San Diego at the moment.

During the episode, Reid and I talk openers Year One and The Proposal, plus potential summer movie breakthroughs.

S&R. Now. I command thee.

BucketCast: Episode 17

2009-06-19T00:22:00.000-07:00

Now the BucketCast is completely up to speed, and rest assured: it'll stay that way for the foreseeable future. I already have tomorrow's (err... today's, by 20 minutes) episode all cut and ready to post. That is, once you're done listening to these two.

On this bare-bones Thursday edition of the BucketCast, I provide my usual weekly box-office opener predictions. They are for Year One, The Proposal, and Whatever Works. On Saturday moring, we'll all know whether I was crazy, prophetic, or somewhere in between.

S&R. You know you want to.

BucketCast: Episode 16

2009-06-19T00:15:00.000-07:00

Putting an end to the momentary BucketCast backlog that resulted from my travels 100 miles north for the L.A. Film Festival, here's Wednesdays episode, which Michael and I recorded from a movie theater parking lot. (You gotta love the portability of podcasting!)

My pick for the week is Friday the 13th (1980) and his is Ghost Busters, making for an all-around '80s cheese sesh. Enjoy the commentary and banter, and remember to listen to the end to hear us tease the films we'll be covering next week.

Instead of doing the whole "Subscribe & Rate on iTunes" line, from now on I'll simply type "S&R" at the end of these BucketCast announcements.

S&R, baby. S&R.

BucketCast: Episode 15

2009-06-17T00:25:00.000-07:00

Hey, what do you know? I'm only 30 minutes late in posting this BucketCast -- the best I've done in three days! Things are looking up here for my punctuality's sake.

Is it really DVD Talk Tuesday again? (Well, technically it's early Wednesday morning right now, but let's not let technicalities get in the way of the pure, unadulterated joy of that proclamation.)

On today's show, I provide reviews of the three new releases: Tyler Perry's Madea Goes to Jail, Friday the 13th, and Morning Light. Also in store for 'ya is my usual DVD pick of the week and what I'll be renting.

As always, I beg you to listen, subscribe, and rate. There will be a pretty... interesting... incentive to do so announced on Friday's show.

BucketCast: Episode 14

2009-06-16T10:31:00.001-07:00

I'm a bit late again in posting Monday's BucketCast, but cut me some slack -- I'm still trying to get the hang of podcasting nearly every day. And better late than never, right?

On this edition of Random Monday, I do quick audio reviews of a few movies out there that I didn't get to in print -- Dance Flick, My Life in Ruins, Angels & Demons, Imagine That, Land of the Lost, and Night at the Museum 2: Battle of the Smithsonian.

These are similar to what I'll be doing in the "YouTube Reviews" I announce at the beginning of the show. Those will begin running in around two weeks from now.

Sunday BucketCast Announcement

2009-06-14T23:55:00.000-07:00

After nearly two weeks worth of BucketCasts, I have made a decision regarding the daily format: there will be no Sunday shows.

Recording, editing, and publishing seven days a week was already starting to get tiresome, so I've decided I need a day-a-week break.

Sunday came as the natural choice for that break. Not only was I dreading the prospect of left-wing listeners becoming alienated by the proposed regular political episode of the show, I also found that such an episode would require a lot of prep-time to be good. And I just don't have 4-5 hours to put these things together.

Not to mention: Internet traffic really lulls on Sundays, meaning not many would hear the show. Movie news also slows, meaning a simple change in topic would likely prove futile.

So, with that said, the BucketCast will now broadcast six days a week. It's still an ambitious schedule, but one I will mostly hold to. I say mostly because I'm still unsure of whether I'll be able to do episodes when I'm at film festivals, like the one coming up this week.

But keep tuning in and keep subscribing and rating on iTunes. This is a very small cut-back. Your listenership is appreciated indeed.

BucketCast: Episode 13

2009-06-13T15:39:00.000-07:00

On today's BucketCast, I discuss the Friday box office numbers.

The Hangover and Up claimed the #1 and 2 spots, with openers The Taking of Pelham 1 2 3 and Imagine That coming in at #3 and #6, respectively.

I also talk box on limited openers Moon, Food Inc., Tetro, Street Dreams, and Call of the Wild 3D.

So what are you waiting for? Listen and then be so scintillated you're compelled to subscribe and rate on iTunes (if you haven't already)!

BucketCast: Episode 12

2009-06-12T18:55:00.000-07:00

Here to tell you to listen to this Friday Subman edition of the BucketCast is a 14-year-old Reid Ackerman, stoned off of Disneyland cotton-candy on our 8th Grade graduation trip.

But a lot of things have changed since then -- not only Reid's ability to pose for pictures, but also his movie tastes.

Without regulars Ryan Gray or Blaine Nelson, Reid and I discuss the new movies this weekend, Imagine That and The Taking of Pelham 1 2 3, and a slew of movie news.

We also tease a special Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen feature coming on the BucketCast. It's bound to be as epic as Bay's film, so make sure you listen for that.

And, as always, I'm begging you to subscribe to the BucketCast on iTunes and to rate it 5-stars.

BucketCast: Episode 11

2009-06-12T13:42:00.000-07:00

I apologize it's about 15 hours late--how off my game have I been over these past two days?--but here's the Thursday Box Office Predictions edition of the BucketCast.

I talk about the likely weekend takes for The Taking of Pelham 1 2 3 and Imagine That, which are unlikely to dwarf last weekend's top two, The Hangover and up.

This delayed episode will not preclude the normal Friday Bucketcast from Subman, which will be posted by 9 p.m. tonight.

As always, please Subscribe to the BucketCast on iTunes and rate it 5-stars.

BucketCast: Episode 10

2009-06-11T01:16:00.001-07:00

Sorry it's about 90 minutes late, but here's today's (well... yesterday's) edition of the BucketCast.

It's Retrospectives Wednesday again, where once-a-week co-host Michael Lester and I look back at movies of the past.

This week, the chosen ones are 1962's The Longest Day, in celebration of the 65th anniversary of D-Day, and 1974's The Taking of Pelham One Two Three, which has of course been remade by Tony Scott with Denzel Washington and John Travolta for Friday release.

C'mon, you know you want to listen. Yes, you do...

BucketCast: Episode 9

2009-06-09T21:49:00.000-07:00

It's DVD Talk Tuesday on Bucketcast Episode 9.

I cover all the big releases this week: Crossing Over, The International, Nobel Son, Fired Up!, and Gran Torino. Can you guess which one I liked the most? Yeah, thought so.

I also provide my standard "Pick of the Week" and offer up what I'll be renting this weekend.

This episode runs pretty short (9 minutes, 31 seconds), but I'm playing with the lengths to see how they play. Remember to send you're opinions on this or any other matter concerning the BucketCast in to webmaster@bucketreviews.com or Twitter-handle "bucketreviews".

Once again, thanks for listening and I hope you'll tell a friend!

BucketCast: Episode 8

2009-06-08T23:27:00.000-07:00

On today's BucketCast, Michael "Retrospectives" Lester and I discuss the movies of David Carradine (1936-2009).

We focus on Boxcar Bertha and Death Race 2000, both made at the beginning of Carradine's long and (mostly) successful film career. His characters in these films are two of his most iconic.

There's also some talk of Kill Bill and "Kung Fu", as I promised when teasing the show.

Hope you enjoy this special episode, and we love your questions and comments. Send them to webmaster@bucketreviews.com or message the Twitter handle "bucketreviews". One note: do not e-mail us because Michael accidentally said "Roger Shaw" rather than "Robert Shaw" -- he was still marinating on our discussion of Roger Corman and the correction is duly noted.

And, if you haven't already, please subscribe to the BucketCast on iTunes. And rate it 5-stars. I'm sure Carradine would have wanted you to. Oh, yes, I went there.

BucketCast: Episode 7

2009-06-07T12:34:00.000-07:00

We're a week of BucketCasts in and the fun has barely started.

In an effort to not alienate liberal listeners and to ensure I don't make a fool of myself by not preparing thoroughly enough, I've postponed Politics Sunday until next week.

Because Michael and I will be doing a special retrospective tomorrow (on David Carradine movies), I decided to move up the "Anything Goes"-Monday topic to Sunday for this one time.

During the course of this BucketCast, I discuss the movies I'm most awaiting in 2009. Let's hope they live up to their promise.

So what are you waiting for? Start listening!

(And subscribe and rate on iTunes and all that fun stuff.)

BucketCast: Episode 6

2009-06-06T23:55:00.001-07:00

On today's BucketCast, I discuss the Friday box-office numbers and their future implications.

Boy, did that Hangover movie open big... and I had a lot to say about it.

So what are you waiting for? Download the episode now or, if you haven't already, subscribe to the BucketCast on iTunes so my voice will automatically find its way onto your computer each and every day of the week.

BucketCast: Episode 5

2009-06-05T17:14:00.000-07:00

Oh, yes, it's another BucketCast for ya.

Today, I speak with soon-to-be Friday regulars Reid Ackerman and Ryan Gray from local sandwich joint Subman. If you remember their posts on Bucket Reviews from years ago, then you've been following the site for waaaay too long.

Topics range from this week's openers to the future of Digital 3-D to the month's release calendar.

As a side-note: the audio quality blows, mainly because I had to hold the microphone and the input-level on my laptop was turned up way too high. We'll fix this next week. My deepest apologies.

If you have any suggestions for the BucketCast, please contact me at webmaster@bucketreviews.com. Also, once again, I ask that you please subscribe to the BucketCast on iTunes and rate it 5-stars while you're there.

BucketCast: Episode 4

2009-06-04T17:04:00.000-07:00

New reviews are coming over at the main site tonight, but for now you have the latest BucketCast.

On today's episode, I discuss the box-office prospects for this weekend's openers: Land of the Lost, My Life in Ruins, The Hangover, and Away We Go.

Tomorrow, the BucketCast will offer a look at what mainstream audiences think of these, as I'll broadcast from local sandwich-joint Subman.

Remember: it will really help if you Subscribe to the BucketCast on iTunes and rate it 5-stars while you're at it.

Thanks!

BucketCast: Episode 3

2009-06-03T22:37:00.000-07:00

I may not be producing the desired amount of reviews these days, but I'm certainly cranking out the daily BucketCast at the rate I promised. It's a demanding task, but nonetheless a rewarding one. Please send your feedback to me at webmaster@bucketreviews.com if you haven't already.

Episode 3 of the BucketCast is the first-ever with a co-host. That's Michael Lester you're hearing, and he will be joining me every Wednesday for weekly retrospectives.

In this episode, we talk William Friedkin's To Live and Die in L.A. (1985), which was supposed to be released on Blu-Ray this week but wasn't, and Ridley Scott's Alien (1979), which just celebrated its 30th Anniversary.

Also: I drop a news bombshell about the speculated Alien Quadrilogy Blu-Ray set.

Because Michael decided to destroy the suspense, he announced that next week's picks will be 1974's The Taking of Pelham One Two Three and 1962's The Longest Day. Stay tuned for those.

If you enjoy the Podcast, please Subscribe to it on iTunes and rate us 5-stars! That will really help.

BucketCast: Episode 2

2009-06-02T23:48:00.000-07:00

Yep, it's that time of night again -- the second episode of BucketCast is now posted.

In this installment of "DVD Talk Tuesday", I cover the latest releases in the format: He's Just Not that Into You, Revolutionary Road, and Defiance. I also offer my weekly DVD pick--Nothing but the Truth--and discuss the movie I'll be renting for the weekend (tune in for that).

While I still have a lot to learn about Podcasting, I hope you'll tune in because I think this 20-minute segment is at least moderately interesting.

And, remember, on tomorrow's show, Michael "Dawn of the Dead Retrospective" Lester makes his return to Bucket Reviews after a five-year layover in Siberia! We'll talk old movies, namely Alien (1979) and To Live and Die in L.A. (1985). Stay tuned for that.

And please be sure to subscribe to "BucketCast" on iTunes and rate it 5-stars. Because you know it deserves that rating so it can keep (or start?) thriving.

BucketCast: Episode 1

2009-06-02T00:31:00.001-07:00

OK, I'll admit it -- I've been slacking on writing my Up and Drag Me to Hell reviews. (Let's just pretend that the "review a day" promise was supposed to start next week, all right?)

But I've got something better. Here's a link to the first episode of the daily BucketCast.

In the short opening, I introduce the daily features and talk about Conan O'Brien's (perhaps not so coincidental) debut on "The Tonight Show". Nonetheless, despite NBC's totally copycat programming-choice, I'm certain BucketCast will be the more popular topic at tomorrow's watercooler.

Don't let the link stop you from subscribing to the Podcast on iTunes, though. And, please, if you like it, give us a 5-star review -- that's what will improve its ranking and therefore expand the reach of Bucket Reviews.

Hope you enjoy!

SXSW 2009: Day Seven

2009-03-26T18:49:00.000-07:00

Taking a final snapshot with the historic Paramount in the background, moments before catching a final cab back to my hotel, to commemorate my SXSW 2009 experience.

As I wrote in yesterday’s post, Day 7 of SXSW was something of a drag because the movies were less thrilling than I had hoped. I didn’t let that inconvenient fact get me down too much, though, because it was the last full day of my wonderful first-ever out-of-town (let alone out-of-state) trip to a film festival. Sure, the excursion had its hiccups, namely an incident in which I feared for my safety as a taxi driver manically told me about his suicidal tendencies caused by passengers’ disbelief in his assertion that he saw a UFO in the mid-‘80s. (The only freakier moment in the 25-minute ride was when he then breathlessly discussed how star-struck he was when Barbara Streisand hopped in his cab.) But both my planes ran on time, the hotel didn’t lose my reservation, and I was able to catch nearly every film I had on my schedule. I had no big qualms.

My final screening at the Paramount (which, aside from having poor sight-lines, is glorious) was first on the day’s agenda. Lynn Shelton’s Humpday claimed two easy-to-garner SXSW titles: Best Movie I Saw on Day 7 and Best Mumblecore Movie at the Festival (unless you include True Adolescents). While hardly remarkable when judged by itself, the film boasts several funny moments and a unique look at certain heterosexual males’ perplexedly fascinated attitude towards homoeroticism that made it seem like a masterpiece compared to the two movies I saw afterwards.

The basic premise: Ben (Mark Duplass, also seen in True Adolescents) is a thirtysomething who has already settled down into a quiet life with his lovely wife Anna (Alycia Delmore). But he begins to question whether taking the domestic route was the right choice when old, scraggly buddy Andrew (Joshua Leonard) shows up in the middle of the night looking for a place to bunk, only to take him partying the next day. Ben finds the youthful scene he left behind for marriage to be alluring, and soon enough he’s high as a kite. Loaded, he and Andrew proclaim to their hippie-dippy counterparts that they’re going to make a gay porn movie and enter it into competition at the popular local sex festival, Humpday. Instead of forgetting about the idea when they’ve sobered up, though, the two only further commit, almost as if it would be emasculating to not live up to the challenge.

For once, the mumblecore style really fits the material—OK, maybe it worked in the Duplasses’ Baghead, too—but not in the way one might expect. Humpday works on meta level, as if writer/director Lynn Shelton and the cast are making fun of their commitment to the understated genre, which proves so unwavering that they even use it to tell this outrageous story. The tactic pays off immensely. For instance, had a pivotal scene in which Anna learns of her now-aspiring filmmaker husband’s plan been handled in an overbearing, desperate-for-laughs manner, it would’ve fell flat. The deathly serious, nearly sublime tone Humpday instead opts for proves hilarious. When Ben and Andrew finally book a hotel room and get down to business, the experience reaches an uncomfortably comic crescendo. Both Shelton and her deadpan actors, especially the where-did-they-get-this-guy Joshua Leonard and the terrified-looking Alycia Delmore, are responsible for maintaining the delicate balance of comedy and bizarre realism.

Unfortunately, the usual misgivings of mumblecore pictures still apply to Humpday, even if it’s better than the average genre-entry. When the humor falls flat—namely in the first act when Ben first indulges in the party scene and in the second when Ben and Andrew constantly debate whether they should go through with the porno or not—the token style seems as boring and phony as it has ever been. Despite its many brilliant moments, Humday also has a tendency to look and feel like a bad student-film, as mumblecore efforts all-too-frequently do. Yes, Shelton’s film is entertaining enough on the whole that it left me more optimistic about the genre and its core-players than I was during the bulk of the festival, but I still doubt that it ultimately has much to say. Humpday touches on a few fascinating themes about masculinity and has its share of laughs, but one would be hard pressed to argue there’s enough substance there that it was worth making the film in the first place. 2 ½ Buckets out of 4.

As the day wore on, the movies got worse. In fact, my final two SXSW reviews will be pretty short given that neither film is likely to have a sizable theatrical release, if one at all. But, hey, Austin was alive and kickin’—bright sunshiney days and loud music coming from every which direction tend to attract the 6^th Street Crowd—and I couldn’t have been happier knowing my first SXSW was a resounding success no matter what my schedule had in store. (Short of a widespread chemical attack on the U.S., that is.) Back to the Alamo Ritz I went to finish my fest.

The Immaculate Conception of Little Dizzle is a strange little movie that, it seems, exists for the sole purpose of being “quirky” (read: “annoying”). The story follows Dory (Marshall Allman), who takes a job as a janitor after getting fed up with his desk-hound gig doing data-entry. One of the offices that his new company cleans tests food products, and they often use the janitors as guinea pigs for new creations. One day, Dory and co-workers innocently munch on self-warming cookies designed to taste like they’re fresh from the oven. They don’t expect the array of side-effects that propel the movie’s plot, from cookie-withdrawal to… well, pooping out a colorful little creature.

At times, The Immaculate Conception of Little Dizzle is amusing because of its sheer wackiness. But on the other hand, does anybody need to see another movie that seeks to get by on wackiness alone? Shouldn’t that remain the role of big-budget, zero-substance Hollywood productions that are transparent in their emptiness, not independent films that should, by design, offer something deeper? In a way, “indies”—much as I detest grouping everything low-budget into one category—need to be more interesting and more original than box-office giants if they want to continue to make headway in growing a well-deserved audience. As often as the concept of The Immaculate Conception of Little Dizzle lends itself to inventive visuals—writer/director David Russo’s history is in animated shorts—the one-dimensional ill-effects of imaginary test-cookies don’t make for interesting and original material. The movie may seem ballsy upon first glance, but viewers will quickly discover that this emperor has no clothes. 2 Buckets out of 4.

How exactly first-time writer/director Judith Krant’s Made in China won this year’s SXSW Narrative Jury Prize is beyond me. (I could also phrase this in a more direct way: What the heck were you thinking, judges Scott Foundas, Ted Hope, and Kim Voynar?) I’d be willing to bet the reason rests in the many ways this tale of an idealistic young inventor who’s duped by those promising him fame and fortune parallels the causes of the current worldwide economic crisis. But I found the movie’s attempts to be humorous and politically relevant rather banal, their topicality notwithstanding. Yes, Made in China was an ambitious attempt for a first feature in that it was shot on location in Shanghai, but that doesn’t change the fact that it isn’t a good movie.

The focal inventor is Johnson (Jackson Kuehn), who’s more annoying than he is charismatic, and he’s confident that a certain “humorous domestic hygiene product”—revealed in one of the film’s few genuinely funny moments—will make him a fortune. He lives with his mom and sister in East Texas, where he can’t find any investors despite several vigorous pitches to locals. In order to make his dream a reality, Johnson travels to China, where he plans to meet a business man who agrees to fund the product over the Internet. Unfortunately for Johnson, the guy was just looking to run away with the hefty deposit he demanded upfront, failing to book the hotel room he promised Johnson or show up for the restaurant-meeting where Johnson planned to discuss production. In a twist of fate, Johnson meets the successful Magnus (Dan Sumpter), who agrees to help him. But this isn’t just any old favor; Johnson will have to live up to his half of the deal. Ya think more financial ruin might be in store for the naïve American?

That all sounds good and dandy on paper, but the film’s obnoxious, slapstick style undoes the relevance of the material. Had Made in China been written as a full-on farce, then it might have been funny, but its attempts to bring humor out of the farcical elements of the plot’s all-to-real Ponzi-scheme come off as obnoxious and unwatchable. This is probably because Johnson is such an unsympathetic loser that he practically deserves to be gamed, making it impossible to laugh at otherwise-funny sequences like the one in which all of his ludicrous invention-ideas are shown. Not to mention, Johnson’s idiocy kind of defeats his ability to parallel those good people whose lives have recently been destroyed by economic corruption. Made in China probably would have been more successful had it attempted a more serious tone, but even that seems like an idea better suited for a superiorly written film with actual production value. SXSW Award Winner or not, this juvenile attempt at humor and sociopolitical pertinence totally misses the mark. 1 Bucket out of 4.

And with that, my official coverage of the 2009 South by Southwest Film Festival is complete. In the event that my 10,000+ words on the event left you hungry for more, then you’re in luck: sometime during the next few months, I’ll chime in with reviews of three more films I was sent/will be receiving on DVD screeners, but for whatever reason wasn’t able to watch before SXSW’s end. They are: Best Worst Movie, a documentary on the making of the cult-classic Troll II; Pontypool, a Canadian zombie flick from the director of the Ellen Page starrer The Tracy Fragments; and Sweethearts of the Prison Rodeo, a look at the Oklahoma convicts who participate in “penitentiary rodeos.” Stay tuned.

In closing, I’d just like to once again highlight the films from SXSW that I highly recommend you go see when they (hopefully) play at a theater near you. In alphabetical order: Breaking Upwards; The Eyes of Me; Grace; The Hurt Locker; I Love You, Man; Lake Mungo; Me and Orson Welles; Moon; Observe and Report; Severe Clear; Sin Nombre; The Slammin’ Salmon; That Evening Sun; and True Adolescents. These movies, plus a half-dozen more that will play just fine on DVD, made my first SXSW experience an unforgettable way to spend my spring break. I can only hope that next year, everything will click again and I will be back in Austin in full-force.

SXSW 2009: Day Six

2009-03-25T23:00:00.000-07:00

The marquee at the Alamo South Lamar, home to Day 6 of my SXSW experience. Immediately below the frame, a line of over 200 waited in anticipation for Broken Lizard's latest, The Slammin' Salmon.

Oh how the quality of the movies depreciated once the music started.

Being a SXSW first-timer, I wasn’t aware of the unspoken rule that weaker movies tend to run during the second half of the festival (aside from perhaps the final day), so I booked my stay through Friday morning. While two of the four flicks I attempted on Day 6 were decent, the crop on Day 7 (coverage coming soon) was pretty rough. My stay next year will definitely be shorter. Rest assured, however: the quantity of films I see will remain the same. I’ll just be cramming them into a smaller chunk of time—catching all the Midnight shows—in hopes of a higher percentage of good ones.

The bleak race to the finish line began with Antonio Campos’ Afterschool, a sensationalistic exploration of the YouTube generation’s alleged emotional disconnect and hopeless complexity that is no more profound than your average “Dr. Phil Show” discussion on the topic. Strangely enough, the film seems to be catching on with critics—the seminal Mike D’Angelo named it his favorite movie of 2008—perhaps because it has the look and feel of an edgy auteur piece. If this is the case, however, one has to wonder why the raving critics don’t seem to recognize how derivative Afterschool is of Gus Van Sant’s similarly-themed (but far better) Elephant.

The film follows Robert (Erza Miller), an insecure, bottled-up teenager who can’t relate to the other kids at his Northeast prep school. Perhaps this is because they know he spends his days watching violent porn videos on the Internet, blowing his load to the sight of women getting strangled and other charming things. Perhaps it’s because his roommate deals drugs. Or perhaps, as the movie would like us to think, it’s because modern technology and social structures in America have singlehandedly turned him into a basket case.

Despite Robert’s social issues, his attractive partner on a school film project, Amy (Addison Timlin), inexplicably makes advances toward him. The story, however, takes a radical turn when Robert, filming footage for said project, witnesses popular female twin classmates die in what’s later found to be a drug overdose, camera rolling. His abnormal reaction to the incident—not calling for help as the girls cough up blood and then behaving, well, disturbingly around the bodies—seems to alert the clueless school staff to the fact that Robert’s probably more than a little effed up, but they choose to ignore this an appropriately bureaucratic fashion. His assigned therapy is to make the memorial film that will be shown at an assembly commemorating the girls.

For a film so contemporary and distinctly young in subject and in style—writer/director Campos is only 25—Afterschool takes a puzzlingly bleak attitude towards the present teenage generation. It’s more than a little ironic that Campos’ assault on the YouTube era could not have been made without modern technology. The film’s central thesis seems to be that new media, especially Internet pornography, allow troubled youth to explore dark emotions that attract them and hence lead to a more detached, problematic society. While I think this is a bullshit assertion to begin with, Afterschool does itself no favors by evidencing the message through an unredeemed loser of a main character. Robert is so screwed up that it’s hard to believe he wasn’t a victim of child abuse and wouldn’t have reached his breaking-point without YouTube at any other time in history.

One could argue that the movie merely seeks to explore how new media affect one disturbed individual and not make the aforementioned blanket-judgments about the 21^st Century world. If this is the case, the film is even worse because, when not viewed as a human hyperbole or a device to communicate broader themes, Robert is completely unbelievable. Certainly, there were screwed up kids like Robert at my high school, but they weren’t so removed from reality that they wouldn’t scream if they saw two girls dying in a corridor.

One wonders if the film is actually more personal than its writer/director would admit. If Robert is indeed a version of Campos, then the filmmaker’s motivations make a lot more sense. Could Afterschool actually be little more than an F-you to Campos’ own film teacher who, like Robert’s in the movie, criticized his crude attempts at the avant-garde because they weren’t narrative or sentimental enough? (Robert’s tribute stylistically resembles Afterschool and inspires a big “What was that!?” from the teacher, who then cuts it into the video equivalent of Hallmark greeting card for the actual presentation.) Could Campos’ own awkward lack of luck with the ladies at his prep school be the reason he had the beautiful Amy so much as befriend Robert? These are big character accusations that I probably shouldn’t be making—apologies to Campos if they’re untrue, of course—but the movie’s critique of contemporary American society reeks deeply of self-idealization and catharsis that this seems like the only logical explanation. With a concept that’s only provocative in theory, not execution, Afterschool exploits its teenage characters and its violence to form a morally reprehensible vision of the age in which we live. ½ a Bucket out of 4.

While Afterschool was a bad start to the day, it gave way to two festival-firsts that I was proud to experience. #1 was that I saw a movie at the South Lamar, the festival’s bigger and in many ways better-equipped Alamo location (complimentary water is available as you enter each auditorium and there is WiFi, an invaluable asset for us film critics), where I would remain all day. #2 was my first-ever walk-out, which I pulled on the subsequent show of the Oprah-esque documentary Motherhood realizing that two bad movies in a row would not affect my mood in a positive way. Not to mention, the two hours of free time provided me a great opportunity to write… and eavesdrop on Cinematical’s brilliant Scott Weinberg, sitting several benches down, as he ferociously typed and talked with a cigarette in his mouth, looking up only to compliment and tip—yes, tip—a pretty festival volunteer playing a Decemberists song on the ukulele. Please don’t send e-mails about how I inappropriately lurk on others; I’m quite aware of the behavior.

After that nice, long break, I settled in for The Eyes of Me, a documentary on the lives of four students at Austin’s own School for the Blind and Visually Impaired. While the movie’s blind stars would’ve had to have been gymnasts or rock-drummers to ensure a theatrical release—are you listening, Christopher Guest?—writer/director Keith Maitland’s simple take on the everyday challenges and triumphs of his subjects is engaging enough that a premium cable deal is not out of the question. The film’s most distinguished quality is that Davidson avoids all the congratulatory, score-infused moments typical of the genre in favor of a more subdued and introspective look at the topic. Thus, emotion organically arises from the film’s subjects, not its style.

While all four young people featured in The Eyes of Me are interesting—two are just entering TSVBI and two are about to graduate—one stands out far above the rest. His name is Chas, and he’s not only blind, but poor. (How’s that for a tough break?) Out on his own, living with a roommate who picks up and leaves without paying his half of the rent, Chas somehow still squeaks by, working in a factory that employs the blind. Given the somewhat foreign nature of the subject-matter for most viewers, Chas’ everyman demeanor and common problems forge a relatable bond that makes the material more involving. Chas is also an aspiring rapper—the film’s title is based on one of his songs—but the quality of his charisma far supersedes that of his music. The film’s depiction of Chas is emblematic of why it succeeds on the whole: it’s more about humans with a disability than it is about the disability itself. It’s hard to saywhere The Eyes of Me will ultimately end up, but if you have a chance to catch it on the festival circuit, it’s a worthy way to spend a quick 72 minutes. 3 Buckets out of 4.

My final movie for the day was yet another SXSW selection that one wouldn’t find playing at any other film festival: The Slammin’ Salmon, courtesy of the beloved-in-circles Broken Lizard comedy troupe (Super Troopers, Beerfest). While I have never been a fan of the quintet myself, this latest entry on their resume worked for me because it abandons their usual crude style—no small feat for the gang given gross-out gags are easy to do in food-related comedies—and because it stars some highly talented non-Lizards.

The premise is simple enough: former boxer and Miami seafood restaurant owner Cleon ‘Slammin’ Salmon (played by a balls-to-the walls, outrageous Michael Clark Duncan) has to come up with $10,000 quickly so he can settle his debts with some Yakuza members. He challenges floor manager Rich Ferente (Kevin Heffernan) to do $20,000 in sales – $10,000 for the Yakuzas and $10,000 for the waiter with the biggest bills. Broad comedy ensues as the colorful group—off-his-meds Nuts (Jay Chandrasekhar), med-student Tara (Cobie Smulders), flirt Mia (April Bowlby), retard Donnie (Paul Soter), and washed-up “CFI: Hotlanta” star Conor (Steve Lemme)—duke it out for the 10 grand.

While the individual jokes aren’t laugh-out-loud funny in and of themselves, the characterizations are. Michael Clarke Duncan lets all hang loose and somehow comes off as a completely credible boxer-turned-businessman, as manic and irresponsible as he is charming. Both of the women—“How I Met Your Mother”’s invaluable Cobie Smulders and “Two and a Half Men”’s ditzy charmer April Bowlby—are very funny and great to look at. Will Forte has a hilarious bit part as a patron who spends the day sipping on water and iced tea, reading War & Peace cover-to-cover, much to the chagrin of his money-hungry waitress. And the whole Broken Lizard crew is the best they’ve ever been, especially Jay Chandrasekhar, who proves far more apt at physical comedy than usual, perhaps because for once he isn’t on his double-duty directing. This time, that task went to Kevin Heffernan, who does a competent job at moving the picture along.

While The Slammin’ Salmon is decidedly minor and contains a few passages in which the humor falls flat, it’s one of the spunkier comedies I’ve recently seen, certainly the best Broken Lizard effort to date. That’s not a monumental accomplishment, but it’s highly refreshing amidst all the heavy movies and bad movies one encounters at a film festival. Why no distributor will so much as touch the film is a mystery to me, especially when considering the fact that studios have historically not only had no problems releasing, but also funding, the group’s past works. 3 Buckets out of 4.

Tempted as I was to stick around and watch the midnight showing of Lesbian Vampire Killers based on the film’s title alone, I decided against it when I spotted an open cab surfing the parking lot, a rarity during the music portion of the festival. Unfortunately, I would end up well-rested for a pretty disappointing final set of films. More on that tomorrow.

SXSW 2009: Day Five

2009-03-23T13:55:00.000-07:00

Strands of green lights (pictured above) were hung over Congress Avenue, home of both the Texas Capitol and the Paramount Theatre, to celebrate St. Patrick's Day, a SXSW staple.

Even at the best of film festivals, when you’re watching over 25 movies, you’re bound to hit a wall at least once. That moment came for me during the first half of Day Five of my SXSW adventure. As early-in-the-day Saint Patrick’s festivities heated up and the mood outdoors in Downtown Austin was festive, I was stuck inside watching films I could care less about. Luckily, I rebounded big-time later in the day, but nothing ruins one’s momentum at these events more than two bad movies in a row.

For that reason, I won’t spend much time writing about either film. They’re unlikely to make any waves or even play in theaters, and I didn’t aggressively hate them enough to waste my time on a diatribe. Gary Hustwit’s Objectified—the filmmaker’s second feature-length documentary, after 2007’s acclaimed Helvetica—says bye-bye to type-face and tackles another type of design: that of the industrial product. Whereas Helvetica scratched below the surface and in the process became far more fascinating than one might expect given its dry subject-matter, Objectified’s appeal is as limited as my synopsis suggests. The movie’s basic premise—that every object, no matter how simple, is designed—interested me for all of about ten minutes. Even more peculiar is the fact that the film ultimately becomes little more than a walking, talking commercial for the Apple products and their superior aesthetic. at least it’s beautifully shot, which is more than Wyatt McDill’s Four Boxes, a plot-saturated bore, can claim. The film tells the story of three “estate liquidators” who spend their days selling the stuff in dead people’s houses on eBay. During a big job, they become obsessed with the mysterious website FourBoxes.tv, which purportedly features a twisted killer who didn’t know his house was pre-wired with operating cameras when he moved in, only for his sick crimes to be broadcast to the world. That all sounds good and dandy at first, but the film’s attempt at a dreamlike style ultimately just puts the audience to sleep. They’re probably better off that way, too, because those of us who managed to stay awake felt cheated by every one of the half-dozen obnoxious plot twists. Not to mention, the fictional FourBoxes.tv website comes equipped with the most annoying sound effects you’ll ever hear. Objectified – 2 Buckets out of 4; Four Boxes – 1 ½ Buckets out of 4.

After regrettably sitting through all of those two blemishes on my otherwise damned good festival schedule, my third pick for the day brought me back into a state of cinematic nirvana. In fact, I don’t think I saw a better movie than Kathryn Bigelow’s The Hurt Locker at SXSW.

Forcing the politics of the Iraq War to sit on the sideline—the only way one could interpret this as a movie with an agenda would be to construe the age-old “war is hell” theme as anti-war—The Hurt Locker is exceptionally engaging in following the day-to-day operations of the American military specialists who disarm bombs. In a war full of IEDs and homemade weapons, this is an extremely dangerous and demanding task, and The Hurt Locker goes to great lengths to detail the skill of its central trio. In charge of the squad is Staff Sgt. William James (Jeremy Renner), who works brilliantly under-pressure sifting through the mechanics of and cutting cords on the bombs, but he seems to have a death wish given his reckless and often irresponsible defiance of protocol when it’s needed to get the job done. Staff Sgt. James’ subordinates, Sgt. JT Sanborn (Anthony Mackie) and Specialist Owen Eldridge (Brian Geraghty), are more subdued and measured.

Like Severe Clear, playing in SXSW’s documentary competition, The Hurt Locker is refreshing in that it removes itself from all the propaganda and debate concerning the Iraq War and depicts the American soldiers for the incredibly talented, conditioned men they are. Consisting of one superiorly crafted white-knuckle action sequence after another, the movie offers an appropriate assault on the senses, showing the full extent of the insanity of modern guerilla warfare. The viewer comes to understand that, in Iraq, any roadside object could be a bomb, and the fear the characters must overcome to do their jobs properly is enormous. The film’s depiction of actual combat in Iraq is also one-of-a-kind; so many films that seek to convince the audience of what it’s like to fight in Iraq haven’t included a single scene of fighting. In this sense, The Hurt Locker provides viewers a respect for the job the military does that supersedes that of any glib representation of patriotism. Whether the Iraq War was right or wrong to begin with is never considered, and the Bush Administration is never mentioned. These guys are there to do their job, and watching the process is heart-stopping and immersive.

Beyond the film’s exceptional tech credits, which use little more than simple sound effects and claustrophobic camerawork to build tension, the acting is what makes The Hurt Locker so involving. In a performance that may be nominated for an Oscar, Jeremy Renner walks a tightrope in making Staff Sgt. James manic enough that he’s involving on a dramatic level, but never so over-the-top that he isn’t believable as a real soldier. I would imagine that a guy credited with disabling nearly 850 bombs would be just like this, minus James’ disregard for military regulation, which is mainly used as a device for screenwriter Mark Boal and director Bigelow to build suspense. At Renner’s side, Mackie and Geraghty are less frantic—after all, their characters aren’t the ones touching the bombs—but their work is just as compelling and authentic-feeling. Big names like Guy Pearce, Ralph Fiennes, and Evangeline Lily also appear and turn in fine performances, but their screen-time is limited.

The Hurt Locker’s sole flaw occurs in its final act, when the story sacrifices realism for good drama in forcing Staff Sgt. James to sneak off the base to avenge a death. While gripping in a narrative sense, this passage reeks of phoniness and betrays the prior realism of the material, stopping the picture short of greatness. But for a largely respectable, edge-of-your-seat look at some of the American military’s most valuable, adept members, viewers will do no better than The Hurt Locker, not your average Iraq War movie by any means. 3 ½ Buckets out of 4.

While I had planned to catch the 10 p.m. showing of a documentary about hippie activist Wavy Gravy, it got off to a late start, and I decided that I couldn’t risk seeing it and not getting a seat for the Midnight of Paul Sollet’s buzzed-about “It made people faint at Sundance!” zombie-baby sensation, Grace. As fate would have it, the theater ended up only half full, and why I thought it would sell out on a night green beer was being passed around in the streets is now beyond me. But, hey, I’ve made far worse decisions in life than to catch up on festival-related writing for two hours instead of seeing what was likely a mediocre movie.

But back to Grace, one of the freakiest and most atmospheric films I’ve seen in a long time, well deserving of its dual reputations as the most disturbing and most entertaining feature you’ll see on the festival circuit all year. The story follows Madeline Matheson (Jordan Ladd), who is pregnant and determined to deliver her baby at home with a midwife, not in a hospital, to maintain a natural lifestyle. After finding the right woman for the job—her ex-lover, Patricia Lang (Samantha Farris)—matters complicate. Madeline and her husband get in a car-wreck that leaves both he and the unborn child dead… or so we think. Madeline is determined to carry the fetus to term, and a minor miracle happens when little Grace comes to life after initially appearing stillborn. But Grace is no ordinary child: instead of nursing on milk, she needs blood.

The film, which is far more understated than the buzz might suggest, sneaks up on the viewer in a far creepier way than a more dramatic version would have. The first scene in which Grace bites into Mommy’s breast to nurse is a real shocker, mostly because Madeline’s reaction is so subdued, perhaps because she’s a good victim. In fact, the movie’s real terror rests not in what the baby does, but how her mother handles it. Desperate to keep Grace’s secret under wraps so that her mother-in-law, who wants to take Grace for herself under the argument Madeline is an unfit parent, Madeline goes to extremes to quench the baby’s thirst. The ultimate, inevitable showdown between mother and grandmother, which I dare not spoil, is bound to make the viewer’s jaw drop. In this sense, as Film Blather’s Eugene Novikov points out, the movie is a surprisingly conservative condemnation of the “hippie granola” lifestyle that leads Madeline to believe she’s doing what’s best for Grace. It’s a refreshing change-of-pace not to see Madeline depicted as an extremist Christian, as she no doubt would be in mainstream horror. Instead, writer/director Sollet’s social and political commentary examines the severe pitfalls “alternative” living, although he never does so in an overly obvious or preachy manner. In terms of message-delivery, Grace does for blood-thirsty babies what Romero does for zombies.

Grace is not a horror masterpiece, but it isn’t trying to be. The film is, plain and simple, fine Midnight moviemaking, with plenty of shocking action for audiences to marvel at and food for thought to chew on. If you’re looking for Tolstoy, then you clearly made a wrong turn several miles back. But for my tastes, Sollet’s film was certainly worth the hour it took me to hail a 2 a.m. St. Patty’s Day cab back to my hotel. Drunk Austinites who have no qualms about running into oncoming traffic to chase the bright yellow object they need to get home are tough competition in that regard. 3 Buckets out of 4.

SXSW 2009: Day Four

2009-03-22T01:42:00.000-07:00

Downtown's Alamo Ritz, host to two of SXSW's seven total screens, stands amidst a bustling 6th Street crowd in the early evening.

The 2009 SXSW Film Festival may be over and all the awards handed out (check out the fest’s official website for more information on those), my coverage keeps on coming. All I can say is that next year, I’ll try harder to stay up-to-date, but when you’re watching four or five movies a day, that’s easier said than done. Here’s my write-up on Day Four of the festival.

The day began as a mystery. “Super Secret Screening” was listed in the 11 a.m. timeslot for the humungous Paramount Theatre. Given that no programmer in their right mind would make under-slept festival-goers wake up at 9 in the morning for just anything, I decided to go. Speculation was rife in line. I read that Knocked Up was unveiled to an audience in the same way two years prior, so I initially wondered if the secret offering might be the new Judd Apatow summer comedy, Funny People. But with the frat-pack films I Love You, Man and Observe and Report already on the schedule, that seemed an unlikely possibility. Maybe it was a festival favorite still awaiting release, like the Charlene Yi-starrer Paper Heart? But why would that be a “secret”? Ten minutes before the show, I had saved my seat and, walking to the concession stand to grab a pick-me-up Coke, I was told that the cat was out of the bag. The film was Richard Linklater’s Me and Orson Welles, a selection that was just as unexpected as it was easily predicted. Linklater is an Austin native and friend of the fest, so it all clicked, but no one was honestly thinking SXSW’s big secret would involve Zac Efron. A few folks—presumably those who reacted violently to High School Musical—walked out when they heard the news, but most of us were excited. Not only was Me and Orson Welles a big movie, it was a big movie that hadn’t yet been picked up and wouldn’t come out for months!

While Me and Orson Welles never reaches beyond the realm of lighthearted, fluffy entertainment, it’s always engaging thanks to Linklater’s solid classical-style craftsmanship and uniformly good performances. Efron plays protagonist Richard Samuels, a high school-aged dreamer who sneaks away to New York City one day and lands himself the role of Lucius in the soon-to-be-infamous Orson Welles’ (Christian McKay) 1937 Mercury Theatre rendition of Julius Caesar. Given Welles’ unstable genius, the young and hopeful Richard’s life is largely dictated by the near-random whims of his director, who commutes across town by ambulance to save time and won’t commit to an opening day until it is an absolute must that he do so. This relationship gets more personal and complicated, too, when Welles’ booty-call of an assistant, the beautiful Sonja (Claire Danes), begins to reciprocate Richard’s head-over-heels crush on her.

The film’s true star is not Efron, who perfectly fits the bill for the wide-eyed Richard without being extraordinary, but Christian McKay. If McKay doesn’t nail Welles, then he at least nails a compelling variation on the endlessly-discussed historical figure. This was no easy task given most viewers’ extensive prior knowledge of the man and expectations for the portrayal. Smartly, director Linklater centers the film’s depiction of Welles on the director’s interaction with Richard, so as to avoid it coming off as a glib attempt to show the full extent of his life and career. This gives McKay some creative room to roam while still adhering to Welles’ manic reputation, and he exercises it brilliantly. Claire Danes is also memorable, both for her looks and her acting.

Beyond the fact that it offers a good time, audiences may appreciate Me and Orson Welles because it tackles two underrepresented sub-genres in American film: historical fiction that doesn’t involve a war and non-musical live theater. Linklater may not have fashioned anything remarkable, but if all movies were this briskly enjoyable and semi-unique, I’d be one content critic. 3 Buckets out of 4.

After Me and Orson Welles was over, I faced an annoyance that regular festival attendees know all too well: the dreaded 150 minute gap between shows. While too short a period of time for me to comfortably return to my hotel room between scheduled shows, it was also too long to sit in a local coffee-shop writing reviews. Alas, I forced myself to watch a “time killer movie” I otherwise wouldn’t have touched with a 10-foot pole, hoping it’d make for a tolerable hour and a half. Such was not the case with The Yes Men Fix the World, the title leftist duo’s latest anti-globalist practical-joke piece. If you haven’t heard of the Yes Men, just know that they’re extremists of the most irrational kind. For a conservative like me, sitting through a feature-length version of their schtick is pretty much torture. I never saw the first Yes Men movie and why I decided that this one was a legitimate option is now beyond me. But I guess it’s good to acquaint oneself with the political extremes every so often, only to be repelled. I got my dose of the hard right on my first day of SXSW when the cab driver pointed out New World Order alarmist Alex Jones’ live radio broadcast, so perhaps The Yes Men Fix the World was just life balancing itself out.

The basic schtick: front-men Andy Bichlbaum and Mike Bonnano, who might describe themselves as activist jokesters, create fake websites for “evil” corporations like Haliburton and wait for various business conference-groups and news channels to invite them to events at which they pretend to be executives for said corporations. In character, they usually convey their anti-capitalist sentiments by encouraging the corporate-employee filled audiences to respond favorably to outrageously irresponsible remarks. The big stunt in The Yes Men Fix the World involves Andy posing as an exec for Dow Chemical and announcing the company will pay millions of dollars in compensation to the families of Indians who died or got injured in a chemical-leak 20 years ago at a factory operated by Union Carbide, now owned by Dow. The movie purports that this caused a massive stock dive for Dow and that most residents of the factory-town were ultimately happy with the stunt because it brought awareness to the issue, but who knows if this is actually the case? The momentary drop in share-price could be attributed to a number of things, although I don’t doubt that the televised announcement had something to do with it. Additionally, Variety’s Leslie Felperin, among others, echoes my impression that the footage from India seems staged.

Even though the Yes Men spend a lot of time congratulating themselves on a job well done at the end of the film and trying to convince viewers they’ve made a positive impact, it’s hard to see any honor in their cause or their methods. While it’s admittedly funny in a juvenile sense to watch them fool accomplished multi-millionaires, the stunts they pull are pretty deplorable. How many victims of the chemical-leak believed they would finally be compensated for their health problems or the death of their family members? (That is, if any of them actually saw the fake announcement—I’m making a big leap of faith in taking Andy and Mike’s word that it was widely televised.) And, presuming the Yes Men indeed caused a dip in Dow’s share-price, how many hardworking Americans did they force to sell stock at a lowered cost? Because of the Yes Men’s tactless approach and senselessly anti-capitalist agenda, it’s hard to take even the few valuable things they have to say about corporate responsibility seriously. By comparison, Michael Moore seems like a rational, informed documentarian. ½ a Bucket out of 4.

Luckily, the bad movies for the day stopped there.

Kristian Fraga’s Severe Clear offers what seems to be the clearest-eyed documentary depiction of what it’s like to be a soldier in Iraq to date. (I say “seems” because I don’t know what it’s like so my judgment is an object of perception, not experience.) The film was assembled entirely from digital-camera footage shot by First Lieutenant Mike Scotti and his fellow Marines during the initial invasion of Iraq. The purpose of Severe Clear is not to dissect the war itself, but to show the lives of the soldiers on the ground, who must follow orders whether the war is justified or not. The film’s most refreshing trait is that, unlike so many others on the subject that inaccurately depict those serving in the American military as helpless chess-pieces that were arbitrarily moved by the Bush Administration, it shows the Marines as the highly informed citizens they are. There’s a scene midway through in which a radio report on the invasion plays and, after initially assuming that director Fraga added this to the film’s soundtrack to provide a sense of the timeline, the viewer is taken aback when they realize the soldiers are actually listening to the news while driving in their Humvee. Coupled with the picture’s up-close-and-personal showcase of the skills of soldiers in combat, this is a powerful testament to the ability and heroism of those serving in the American military.

The film does have its technical problems. Despite Fraga’s clear ability to select riveting bits of Scotti’s footage, he crudely divides the film into arbitrary “chapters,” making the pace choppy. In addition, Fraga relies heavily on voice-over by Scotti reading the letters he wrote home during the war. While there’s nothing wrong with this approach in and of itself, it has a tendency to bring the viewer out of the moment because Scotti sounds like he’s carefully reading them into a microphone. (Imagine that: he’s not also a part-time actor with professional training in voice-work.) Severe Clear could have been a great film had it been assembled better. But the picture’s flaws can ultimately be forgiven in favor of its superior portrayal of a side of the Iraq War that hadn’t before been seen on film. Given audiences’ proven aversion to the subject, the movie may have trouble securing a theatrical distribution deal, but I hope it beats the odds and has the chance to finally provide moviegoers a balanced and human take on an all-too-politicized war. 3 Buckets out of 4.

In 2007, the legendary Hal Holbrook returned to film acting after a six-year lull with a supporting performance for the ages in Into the Wild. He’s back in the lead with That Evening Sun, which won the festival’s Audience Award and Special Jury Award.

Based on a short story by William Gay, the film follows Abner Meecham (Holbrook), an 80-year-old Tennessee man who escapes from a depressing nursing-home and returns to his longtime farm. Conflict ensues when Abner finds the deadbeat Lonzo Choat (Ray McKinnon) living there with his wife and daughter (Carrie Preston and Mia Wasikowska). Apparently, Abner’s son, who put him in the nursing home to begin with, leased Lonzo the place with the option to buy. Despite Lonzo’s threats, Abner doesn’t intend to leave: he sleeps in the shed out back as tension further escalates. As That Evening Sun progresses, the viewer realizes they’re in for a showdown, but how it happens and how these characters develop makes for a truly involving experience.

This is a strong feature debut for writer/director Scott Teems, who effortlessly allows the emotions to build and take hold over the audience. In the process, he brings out the film’s unique Southern setting, both in the visuals and in the characters. But the real distinguishing quality of That Evening Sun is the cast, who turn in excellent performances across the board. Holbrook’s Abner, while set in his ways and hot-tempered, is a sympathetic and complex protagonist. It’s worth noting that he’s one of the few strong elderly characters we’ve seen in recent American film, and this adds an additional dimension to the material. McKinnon makes for a thoroughly yucky villain in Lonzo, but the character becomes a lot deeper than that in the third act. That Evening Sun is one of those movies that the viewer must just take in as it unfolds and, by the end, they will have discovered unexpected and enriching rewards. 3 Buckets out of 4.

I don’t think I could have found a movie more different from a Southern Gothic tale starring Hal Holbrook than Jody “Foot Fist Way” Hill’s Observe and Report had I tried. But, hey, that’s one reason I love film festivals: the variety. The assortment of choices at SXSW is especially diverse, too, as the programmers aren’t afraid to bring low-brow comedies and horror films, often stigmatized in the “sophisticated” festival circuit, into the mix.

The invaluable—yes, I said it—Seth Rogen stars as Ronnie Barnhardt, a mall cop who shares about as much in common with Paul Blart as Marilyn Manson does with Elmo. Ronnie’s a total loser by conventional standards: he’s well into his thirties, but still lives with his alcoholic mother and doesn’t have an apparent life outside the mall, which he exhorts a near-sadistic sense of ownership over. (Okay, I’m serious here, as much as that might sound like Paul Blart: Mall Cop on paper, take one look at the trailer and you won’t be comparing the two any longer.) Ronnie goes completely gun-ho when an on-the-loose male flasher who terrorizes mall patrons disrobes before his unhealthy obsession of a crush: make-up kiosk worker Brandi (Anna Faris). Ignoring the detective assigned to the case (Ray Liotta), Ronnie vows to take matters into his own hands and catch the perpetrator at all costs.

Observe and Report is as offensive and abstract as studio movies come. Yes, the rumors are true: there is an extended a scene in which Ronnie date-rapes Brandi, only for her to perk up and ask “Why are you stopping, motherfucker?” when he slows his thrusts to check if she’s alive. Many will call it trash, but I found it to be the funniest film of the year so far. We laugh at Ronnie because he’s downright pathetic and, as was the case with the karate-choppin’ protagonist in Hill’s debut, we don’t feel bad about doing so because we sense that Ronnie is so far gone that he wouldn’t recognize our laughter for a character judgment even if he could hear it. In fact, it isn’t necessarily a judgment: one could argue that it’s instead the only way for the viewer to cope with the scary idea that there are probably real Ronnies living in America. For this same reason, we nearly embrace the character because he’s utterly fascinating as a representation of a culture gone down the tubes. As such, Ronnie may not even fit the “anti-hero” mold; if pressed, I’d call him a “likably flawed hero.”

It goes without saying that a full understanding of why Rogen and Hill’s brand of absurdism can be so riotous is beyond the scope of this piece. Don’t even get me started on the social commentary achieved by Ronnie’s equally-nutty fleet of fellow mall officers played Michael Pena and the Yuan twins, let alone the film’s buzzed-about resemblance to Taxi Driver. Observe and Report is simply a movie you must see to believe and, in truth, whether it leaves you revolted or in stitches may be beside the point entirely. 3 Buckets out of 4.

And there you have it – another piece of my SXSW coverage is in the can. With only three days of the festival left for me to write about, I can see the light at the end of the word-tunnel. Hope you’re enjoying these as they sure take a lot of time to write.

SXSW 2009: Day Three

2009-03-21T15:39:00.000-07:00

Trying to take a snapshot crossing Congress Avenue with the Texas Capitol in the background... only my noggin's in the way.

Two days after my last post, here I am in San Diego, fully recuperated from a surprising amount of jetlag. The flight from Austin to the West Coast is only a bit more than three hours, but I conked out for 13 on the night of my return. Maybe it was all those Auntie Annie’s pretzels I ate in the airport terminal at the recommendation of Emily Blunt, who devoured one of the garlic twists a few nights ago on “Late Night With Jimmy Fallon” after discussing what a life-changing find they were for her while shooting the recent Sunshine Cleaning in New Mexico. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, if you thought you were looking for SXSW film festival coverage, you’ve come to the wrong place: The Bucket ‘Blog has now officially become a source for long-winded descriptions of simple foods I enjoy.

The festival closes tonight without me, with the Zooey Deschanel/Joseph Gordon Levitt romance and Sundance fave (500) Days of Summer. But SXSW keeps on rollin’ in my mind because I’ve got five more days of coverage to post for you people.

I was able to catch five films on Day Three of the festival thanks to one of the great time-savers employed by the SXSW crew this year: the screening library. Lodged in Downtown Austin’s Hilton Hotel, which is far more expensive than the place I’m staying, this small, dark room houses six small viewing terminals where we critics can select from a wide array of festival titles. I only took advantage of the opportunity the once—I didn’t fly 1,400 miles to miss out on the theatrical experience—but it was a great way to squeeze in two of the best films I saw all festival long.

In Breaking Upwards, New York twentysomethings Daryl (Daryl Wein) and Zoe (Zoe Lister Jones) struggle to break off their relationship because they’ve become dangerously codependent on one another as they’ve grown. First failing at a cold turkey separation, they decide to dedicate days they will speak to each other and days they won’t (“Tuesday? But that’s ‘Idol’ night!”). The results are even more destructive this way, of course, because the time has come for the couple to part ways and their need to dwell on what they had in the past only ends in an argument, heartbreak, or both. Things get even messier when Daryl and Zoe start seeing other people. The film is supposedly based off of Wein and Lister Jones’ real-life relationship, which explains the authentic performances, but it’s hard to believe the two experienced all this and still liked each other enough to make a movie about it.

That’s not to say that Breaking Upwards is a depressing, brooding deconstruction of the pains of relationships. Most of the time, the movie’s upbeat tempo mitigates a lot of the hurt that exists underneath this relationship, which is ultimately a good thing because it gets us to genuinely like these two so much that we care about their futures. In other words, the experience isn’t detached like those of many realistic “breaking up” movies. Breaking Upwards probably would have failed for most viewers had it been that way, too, because Daryl and Zoe aren’t instantly relatable as people given they walk and talk like the young, hip, and artistic New York Jews they are – not a demographic the movie-going masses know very well.

But Breaking Upwards ultimately succeeds on a universal level because its portrayal of modern American values and emotions is dead-on, no matter how distant the main characters may seem from one’s own life. Rarely has a movie felt so honest about what it means to love in the era of Facebook and Netflix, both of which receive their due amount of time. Daryl and Zoe are about as far from romantic-comedy characters as you can get – trapped in the conventional crux of co-dependency, but as real people trying to deal, not caricatures marching around farcically. And it’s great that the film is perceptive enough to realize that this reality involves, for instance, Daryl being a flagrant metrosexual who touts expensive, tight designer jeans. You wouldn’t see that in a studio film or even a “quirky” low-budget comedy. Nor would you see his mother’s reaction to said pants, which is a part of the film’s grander, no-bullshit discussion of Daryl and Zoe’s generation’s values as opposed to those of their parents. For a refreshing take on the love-gone-bad scenario with two surprisingly engrossing characters, viewers would be hard-pressed to do better than Breaking Upwards. Keep an eye out for it. 3 ½ Buckets out of 4.

Lake Mungo fooled me good. I didn’t know anything about the Australian ghost-story mockumentary when I popped it into the screening-library player—the film I intended to see wasn’t available—and, until looking at the movie’s IMDb page yesterday and reading that it featured actors, I believed it was all true. I gasped repeatedly in disbelief as it rolled, often horrified by what I was witnessing. While I feel more than a bit cheated now and I doubt I would’ve had the same strong reaction had I known it wasn’t real, it took an incredibly well-done movie to get me to buy some of the farfetched suggestions the characters make. I’m so in awe of writer/director Joel Anderson’s accomplishment that I’m hardly embarrassed admitting that I planned to write that the film’s only flaw was it too strongly resembled a CourtTV documentary as if to stylistically confirm is evident legitimacy.

Almost entirely through flashback “interviews,” the film tells the story of the Palmer family, which tragically loses its 15-year-old daughter Alice (Talia Zucker) in a drowning accident. A month later, they hear someone in their house late at night, only to then see the image of her ghost. The crazy plot-twists fly from there and while you won’t be left as dumfounded by them as I was because you’ll know the movie isn’t real as you watch it, I will still refrain from divulging them in an effort to preserve the movie’s effect.

Reflecting on the experience, I’m still befuddled by the fact that filmmaker Anderson got me to buy into the movie’s superior imitation of the documentary style. My response is a testament to the strength of the production values and performances, all of which are spot on. Lake Mungo is a reminder of the sheer power a film can have over the viewer when they see it without any prior knowledge. In fact, in writing this review, I’m no longer angry at the fact I got duped because the 89 minutes of sheer belief that the movie provided me, prolonged for days until I finally wised up and read something about it, made for a fascinating experience that got me to think about the story far more than I would have had I known it was fiction. I marveled over each twist and what it meant on narrative and social level. I considered the supernatural more than I ever had before. While some narrative movies are meant to be seen as fiction, many would be better if we thought they were real. Lake Mungo is certainly one of these movies and, while it would be irresponsible to review it as if it were a documentary, I wish I could because doing so could lead others to have similarly fascinating experiences watching it. 3 ½ Buckets out of 4.

After two exceptional movies, I suppose I was due for a bad one, and boy did I get it in the form of Tim Disney’s American Violet, the latest liberal guilt trip designed to expose racial injustice only to encourage further hatred and division among blacks and whites in the U.S.

No, I’m not about to doubt the movie’s legitimacy as a “true story.” But given what we know about media effects, I would assert that it marks a step backwards for racial tolerance, not the leap forwards that the cast and crew probably intended. It’s the year 2000 and Dee Roberts (Nicole Beharie) is an African-American single mom living in a Texas housing project with her four children. When a government raid sweeps the project, Dee is taken into custody for what she believes to be unpaid parking tickets, only to find out she’s actually being held on drug charges. Soon, injustice in the system is exposed: squeaky-clean Dee is offered a plea bargain for 10 years probation, a much better deal than she’d get if found guilty by a jury. Ya think a district attorney is looming in the background looking to better his crime credentials? If Dee accepts the deal like so many other women, she’ll be out of jail. But she’ll also be doomed to unemployment given her newfound criminal record. Enter ACLU Attorney David Cohen (Tim Blake Nelson), ready to save Dee from her rotten fate by taking on the corrupt legal process, as the ACLU has a time-honored tradition of doing (wink, wink). As Dee, David, and helping company try to get to the bottom of Dee’s arrest, they discover a long history of racial motivation in the D.A.’s office.

The film selectively uses a bad moment in recent history to show that racial problems still exist in America. The cause of promoting awareness is noble, but the issue will only get worse if filmmakers continue to depict it in such a stereotypical light. As is the case with all groups who are minimally represented in movies, each portrayal of African Americans is particularly important to how the group is seen by consumers of media. For American Violet to so clearly depict Dee as an innocent black victim helpless to the whims of a racist, deep-Southern government is deplorably regressive. These images are bound to make African-American audiences who racially identify with Dee to view whites (particularly those with Southern accents) as villains. Whites, myself included, are equally bound to have a visceral reaction to the material given that it promotes an utterly racist version of our group. (Sure, one could argue that the Tim Blake Nelson character and the former assistant D.A. who help Dee take on the system are both noble Caucasians, but they’re depicted as few-and-far-between progressives willing to tackle a long oppressive government power-structure). Alas, we have a movie that encourages racial tension, whatever its intention may have been.

American Violet’s technical elements are top-notch and the cast is full of excellent actors, but I would argue that these are not redeeming qualities because the more the movie looks like a mainstream piece of work, the more acceptable its dangerous intrinsic message becomes. Nonetheless, it’s worth noting that cinematographer Steve Yedlin, who worked on both of Rian Johnson’s films, is a heck of a talented guy. Buzzed-about lead actress Nicole Beharie also turns in exceptional work and is unbelievably beautiful. But American Violet, made by a Disney clearly racked with white liberal guilt, is not the movie that President Obama’s so-called “post-racial America” needs to succeed. 1 Bucket out of 4.

Luckily, the painful experience of American Violet was quickly quelled by a film with actually enlightening messages about race relations in America, even though it takes place almost entirely south of the border. Cary Fukunaga's first feature, Sin Nombre, captures the grit and brutality of life in Latin America far more authentically than this decade’s overrated critical darlings on the subject, Maria Full of Grace and City of God. Whereas those films sacrificed realism by indulging in overwrought stylistic techniques to convey their messages, Fukunaga’s film uses the drama of a traditional narrative arc to organically bring out the harsh realism of the material.

Sin Nombre interlocks two topical stories: that of a teenage Honduran girl’s treacherous trek to illegally immigrate to the United States and that of a young man running from the Mexican gang he rebels against. She’s Sayra (Paulina Gaitan), and she and her family are riding atop the freight train that Willy A.K.A. “El Casper” (Edgar Flores) has been assigned to pillage. The only problem: he’s transfixed by her and, already seeking a way out of his violent thug life, decides he’ll merely ride away from the past. If only things were that simple.

The way the various elements of the film balance drama and realism is its greatest asset. While Sin Nombre is as suspenseful as any cat-and-mouse story—Sayra and Willy become better and better friends as the gang gets closer and closer to catching him—it also provides all the insight of a documentary on immigrant journeys and gang activity south of the border. These are topics of endless discussion in the American political sphere and yet most Americans actually know very little about them. Early on in the film, Sayra’s father tells her that half of the train-riders will die on the way to the United States. The film depicts the journey in sobering detail, and yet it commendably stops short of becoming a political polemic, as was the case with Maria Full of Grace. In fact, the script fully recognizes that illegal immigration contributes to violent crime in the U.S.: running after him, Willy’s former gang members yell that they have connections in Los Angeles who will kill him if they fail to do so. Dramatized as it is, this passage is terrifyingly real because the gang is based off of an actual group called Mara Salvatrucha.

Perhaps the film’s unique, balanced style can be attributed to the fact that writer/director Fukunaga is American and made the picture thinking of U.S. audiences. While never preachy or naïve, Fukunaga goes to incredible lengths to enlighten the viewer on these topics, which is something an accustomed native filmmaker might not have done. Not to mention, he implements a distinctly American sense of drama, which works harmoniously with the story because it’s never overdone. However, my praise for Fukunaga’s work should not keep me from mentioning the great, raw performances from young actors Gaitan and Flores or the beautiful, lush cinematography from D.P. Adriano Goldman. Nearly every facet of Sin Nombre, one of 2009’s first must-sees, is as informative as it is intense. 3 ½ Buckets out of 4.

Had I been smart, I would have headed back to my hotel room to write and to get a healthy amount of shut-eye for the next day’s offerings. But I just had to stick around for Women in Trouble because of its all-star cast. I came to regret the decision enormously.

The dialogue in Sebastian Gutierrez’ farce is so obnoxious and attention-begging, it makes Tarantino seem as understated as Jim Jarmusch by comparison. An interlocking stories-formatted commentary on sex per the basic premise of its title, the movie is broad and not funny at all. Filmmaker Gutierrez shot it over about ten days and, because he didn’t need much of their time, was able to cast big stars who probably wouldn’t have otherwise even considered the dead-on-arrival script. But perhaps the inclusion of well-known names like Josh Brolin, Carla Gugino, and Marley Shelton is fitting because Women in Trouble mostly attempts graphic body-part jokes that would be right at home in the average hard-R-rated Hollywood sex comedy. (Like, oh my God, isn’t making obvious sexual references so funny?) Unfortunately for the viewer, this type of gag proves even more insufferable than failed attempts at indie edge you might expect from this low-budget a production. Because there is no reason to care about the caricatures, the fact that the goofy and humiliating plots they partake in aren’t funny renders the movie a painful experience. The only saving grace is that a few of the actresses make for nice eye-candy: when Emmanuelle Chriqui was onscreen, I was just bored as opposed to feeling like I was being stabbed repeatedly. 1 Bucket out of 4.

I probably could’ve recovered from the experience had I stuck around for the Midnight presentation of Sam Raimi’s much-awaited return to horror, Drag Me to Hell. But given it was an unfinished “work-print” and I had to be back at the Paramount bright and early the next day for an 11 a.m. “Super Secret Screening”, I decided to wait for the film’s May release instead.

SXSW 2009: Day Two

2009-03-19T22:35:00.001-07:00

Austin brightened up after the festival's dreary opening day, luckily for us out-of-towners.

It’s my final night here in Austin, and I must say I’ve had a hell of a time. Said time hasn’t afforded many writing opportunities—I’ve been in and out of cabs, theaters, restaurants, city streets, et cetera—but given that most who in attendance knew what they were seeing without the help of my recommendations (or asked me in person here), I assume that my catching up on reviews after the festival’s curtain closes is a-OK. You all (or, as my new friends might say it: “y’all”) will be hearing my thoughts well in advance of these films’ theatrical releases. One thing’s for sure: hectic as it was, I wouldn’t have traded this Spring Break for the world. Provided I’m once again press accredited by the lovely SXSW staff next year, I hope to return in full-force, having learned quite a few things about the festival and the American South in general. But anyway, my contemplations about how Austin’s acclaimed Iron Works Barbeque isn’t the shit it’s cracked up to be on Yelp or how the “ra-ra” atmosphere of UT far overwhelms anything I’ve ever seen at USC probably aren’t of interest to ye who came to read about the movies. Well, fine. Here’s what I can muster on Day Two of the festival before I finally rest up for tomorrow’s long plane ride home back to the West Coast.

Beeswax was my first encounter with writer/director Andrew Bujalski, whose previous features Funny Ha Ha and Mutual Appreciation are lauded in indie film-geek circles but unseen everywhere else. While I certainly liked the film better than fellow mumblecore movement filmmaker Joe Swanberg’s Alexander the Last (also in competition, reviewed below), I can’t say I respond to these guys’ style in the least. No, I’m not bothered by the lack of a linear narrative, but I’d like something to latch onto beyond general ideas. In fact, that’s all Beeswax, the tale of an Austin paraplegic (Tilly Hatcher) who finds herself involved in a potential legal battle with the co-owner of her vintage clothing store, is about: general ideas. While nuanced and believable, the characters lack empathy—if my description of protagonist Jeannie seems uninviting, wait ‘til you meet her sister Lauren (Maggie Hatcher) or vague love-interest Merill (Alex Karpovsky)—and because of this, the film becomes more of an examination of humanness rather than a work of humanness itself. While there’s nothing wrong with this idea in theory, in practice it results in a film that fails to engage. Yes, there are several themes in Beeswax that should stir up discussion, namely those related to its timely commentary on small business and how Jeannie’s disability affects her daily life, but they don’t carry any gravitas because the film is painfully detached on the whole. It’s hard to fault anything but the film’s conceptual framework for this, as the performances are as authentic and accurate to the script as they could be, the subject is topical, and the tech credits are top-notch. Beeswax has a lot of good qualities indeed, but they fail to overcome a flawed inception. 2 Buckets out of 4.

Once the credits on Beeswax began to roll, I darted from the historic Paramount Theatre over to catch True Adolescents at the beloved Alamo Drafthouse, the country’s top-rated theater where they serve you food and drink as you watch the movie. While I had already filled up on lunch at that point, I was ready to give the service a whirl and scribbled “Chocolate Milkshake, please” on the fabled quarter-sheet order-card. Sure enough, five minutes into the film, the delectable cold treat was placed before me. Since then, I have had many a meal at both Alamo locations showcasing festival films: the Downtown Ritz and the South Lamar, two miles from the brute of the action. If you’re ever in Texas and see a movie at an Alamo location, I recommend the Turkey Sandwich, which comes on ciabatta with Havarti cheese, field greens, red onions, and rosemary aioli and the Midnight Espresso Milkshake, complete with chocolate coffee beans on atop the whipped cream. Compared to the food-wasteland that makes up the rest of Austin—my 24/7 Southern California brain had a hard time comprehending that there are places where restaurants close at 6 p.m.—the Alamo is a haven. (Bring one to L.A., please!) But I said I would concentrate on the movies, didn’t I? But, oh, that Havarti!

True Adolescents softened the Bujalski-inspired angst I felt towards mumblecore filmmakers given that one of the key players in the movement, Mark Duplass, stars in what is an extremely enjoyable film. While True Adolescents probably doesn’t qualify as a mumblecore effort itself—or do mumblesome qualities and Duplass’ presence indicate defacto membership?—the fact that a mumblecore regular could participate in an involving narrative with sympathetic characters was highly reassuring.

The film at first seems like an unremarkable “indie” take on a Hollywood standard: the camping trip comedy. But before it’s over, writer/director Craig Johnson ends up taking the story in several unexpected directions that make it engaging. Sam is a thirtysomething loser who plays in a rock band and temporarily bunks with his Aunt Sharon (Melissa Leo) and teenage nephew Oliver (Bret Loehr) after a failed relationship. In a short set-up, Sharon forces Sam to fill the shoes of Oliver’s absent dad, who flakes out on a camping trip planned with Olier’s best friend Jake (Carr Thompson). While the trip follows the structural conventions of the genre—yes, the trio is at one point separated and lost in the woods—comparisons to fellow camping movies end there. Dialogue is sparser than usual, and it’s genuinely fascinating to watch how laid-back loser Sam—the one who puts the “true” in the movie’s title—interacts with his younger counterparts. While initially lacking in apparent maturity and offering advice that only makes him see more juvenile, Sam reveals true character and becomes rather likable in the movie’s shocking, thought-provoking climax. But there’s a lot more to contemplate than Sam’s attitude when it comes to said climax, which is refreshing in its honesty and topicality. Using a conventional mold, writer/director Johnson doesn’t attract any unnecessary attention to plot; instead, he focuses his energy on building these characters and saying something about modern American society while he’s at it. True Adolescents, benign as it initially may seem, proves to be compelling stuff. 3 Buckets out of 4.

After losing my Alamo virginity, it was back to the bustling Paramount for the highest-profile film (excluding opening night’s I Love You, Man) I had seen at the festival yet: Duncan Jones’ Sundance hit Moon. One thing that has fascinated me the entire time here is that the Paramount has a hard liquor license and people drink while watching movies in an auditorium of 1,300, young and old. Okay, fine: I’ll stick to the movies one more time. But only because you asked nicely.

Moon is about as avant-garde and intrinsic as a movie with a big-name lead and modest commercial viability can get away with, and it’s all the more commendable for pushing this boundary as far as it’ll go. It’s a tough movie to review, though, because it has pretty much become an established critical sin to spoil the driving force of the plot in the final two acts. Working to ensure your movie-going experience is just as fresh as mine was, I’ll only divulge the basic premise. Sam Bell (Sam Rockwell) is an astronaut near the end of a three-year tour working on the dark side of the moon harvesting Helium-3, a rare element in nuclear fusion that humans have used to solve the energy crisis on Earth. He’s glad he’ll soon be done, as the distance from his wife and young daughter has been emotionally tasking; the only “person” to keep him company all day is the talking, emoticon-displaying computer he works with, named GERTY (and voiced by Kevin Spacey). But before Sam makes his return voyage, he’s involved in a game-changing Land Rover accident. He survives, but something very peculiar happens, causing Sam to question his very existence and the frighteningly advanced technology around him.

Again, I dare not reveal the plot-point that makes the movie what it is, especially because other reviewers have done such a good job in keeping the secret safe. What I will say is that the movie achieves everything that thought-based science-fiction (the gold standard of which remains 2001: A Space Odyssey) should: it considers the pitfalls of modern technology, makes itself socially and politically relevant through allegory, and provides a credible representation of what the future might be like. Star Wars fans beware: there aren’t any intergalactic battles being fought here. Instead, all the action rests internally in Sam Rockwell’s protagonist, who spends the majority of the movie trying to make sense of what’s going on around him, usually only one slight step ahead of the audience. Rockwell nails the performance by playing intense and smart, but never shying from the humanity of a man who becomes involved in a situation that at once defies humanity and encompasses it. So too does Kevin Spacey, whose recognizable voice initially seems like a misstep on storywriter/director Jones’ part, but clicks on a meta level when one confronts how intertwined celebrity and technology have become.

That Jones set a detailed, credible stage was just as integral to Moon’s success as the performances. He made sure to use all the real science he could, and it shows in the movie’s authentic feel. As if that weren’t enough, Jones made a conscious choice not to use any CGI, meaning all of the visual effects were physically orchestrated. As a result, Moon is not only visually appealing, it’s also that much more believable, making its inferences about the future highly effective. While I must complain that the film gets awful tedious for those of us who aren’t big on sci-fi as it gets more and more abstract, no matter how thoughtful it may be, those who dig the genre of thing will struggle to find a better movie all year. 3 Buckets out of 4.

That’s it for me from Austin, which is no doubt a great American city. If I’m feeling productive and punctual, perhaps I’ll bang out and post another day’s worth of coverage before my plane leaves for San Diego bright and early tomorrow morning—I plan to enjoy my birthday weekend at home before returning to L.A.—but that’s unlikely. Check out my Twitter feed for more recent, reliable updates.

SXSW 2009: Day One

2009-03-18T15:49:00.000-07:00

The marquee at Downtown Austin's Paramount Theatre illuminates the night sky.

I have less than two days left in Austin and here I am posting only my second piece of SXSW coverage, about Day One of the festival. And yet I'm pretty exhausted regardless of the lack of writing-- you folks have no idea how Herculean a task it can be to watch 20 movies in five days! Without further adieu:

I Love You, Man is the latest comedy from Judd Apatow’s famous “frat-pack,” and it’s so assuredly entertaining and funny that it’s hard to believe Apatow himself didn’t so much as produce. Instead, it’s the brainchild of writer/director John Hamburg and co-writer Larry Levin, who have fashioned a distinct film that falls tonally somewhere in between the family dynamics of Knocked Up and the broad gags of Forgetting Sarah Marshall.

The movie stars Paul Rudd as the about-to-be-married realtor Peter, who realizes he doesn’t have any strong male relationships when unsuccessfully trying to find a best man. This becomes an issue after he eavesdrops on his fiancée (Rashida Jones) gossiping about his lack of pals with her girlfriends. Desperate to find somebody to fill the role, Peter seeks the help of his extroverted gay brother (Andy Samberg) to shore up the perfect “bromance.” But buddy-love finds Peter on its own when Sydney (Jason Segel), a laid-back guy’s guy from Venice, shows up at Peter’s open-house looking for a rich cougar. The two hit it off immediately, Sydney goofily complimenting Peter on his choice of Paninis—he’s clearly been to a lot of similar functions in his quest—and obnoxiously speculating on attendees. Typical male bonding ensues, but it’s handled with such a refreshingly unique truth and sense of humor that the audience never remembers they’re watching formula.

The movie’s superior understanding of male relationships lies in the writing and in the lead performances by Rudd and Segel. It hits the right notes out of the gate, never falling for the cliché temptation to make Peter a miserable guy. In real life, the character indeed wouldn’t be outright depressed because he boasts the two defining traits of masculinity—a challenging career and a woman—as scribes Hamburg and Levin perceptively understand. Instead, it isn’t until said woman takes pity on him that he realizes what’s missing in his life, a rational male response. Furthermore, Peter responds in a proactive, almost self-competing way to rectify the issue and prove his masculine worthiness in subtle shame. This unexpectedly real emotional development earns I Love You, Man the frat-pack signature: a comedic story with authentic human emotions.

When the bromance takes off, Rudd and Segel attain buddy chemistry more affectionate and exhilarating than anything moviegoers have seen from Hollywood in awhile. In a second act full of bonding, the leads play into the “opposites attract” mold perfectly, as Paul’s introverted desires are brought out by Sydney’s willingness to act as wildly as reason will allow. The two actors perform on high-wire and their chemistry is insatiable as the movie provides surprisingly fresh takes on set-ups like the buddy jam-session—capped by a funny affection for Rush—and the “man-date” by the beach. It would be inappropriate of me to spoil the jokes themselves, but rest assured: they’re hilarious.

I Love You, Man does have a few problems at the end when the exurbanite amount of time Paul and Sydney spend together inevitably begins to take away from Paul and fiancée Zooey’s relationship. While this is not bothersome for its clichés—given the plot-structure Hamburg and Levin attempt, it’s pretty much necessary—it drags attention to the fact that Paul and Zooey’s bond was never really developed in the first place. The viewer accepts that they love each other at the beginning, but as the relationship continues unsubstantiated, their purportedly perfect pairing seems more like an artificial plot device than a believable union. Yes, Sydney’s intrusion is forcing them apart, but the couple’s initial lack of basic chemistry makes it hard to believe they care enough about each other to not break up completely, especially having only known each other for eight months. It would’ve been nice to see more of Paul and Zooey together in the first act. But the contrived strength of their relationship can ultimately be chalked up to good ole movie magic, and it admittedly provides for one of the movie’s most riotous sex-related gags. (When you see the movie, you’ll know what I’m referring to.)

Is the movie socially significant in the ways that Knocked Up and Superbad were? No, but it isn’t trying to be. Instead, I Love You, Man is a consistently engrossing, silly romp with a keen understanding of the male mind. At the end of the day, that’s about all you can ask of a great March comedy. 3 ½ Buckets out of 4.

John Inwood’s ExTerminators would, I think, like to be described as a mix of Callie Khouri and the Coen Brothers. This review may be the only time you’ll encounter that comparison, however, because the movie doesn’t even measure up to the former filmmaker’s lacking skills. It’s essentially a low-rent Lifetime movie getting the festival-treatment because it’s headlined by a few notable actresses. Most widely known are Heather Graham and Jennifer Coolidge, who play two of three central characters bonding in anger-management group-sessions that judges ordered after they committed assorted violent acts against men. (Amber Heard rounds out the trio.) The therapy goes awry, however, when they wind up indulging each other’s sadistic compulsions, resulting in more than a few male deaths. What’s most troubling about the movie is its celebration of violence, which seems to result from failed attempts at dark comedy that actually come off as somewhat disturbing in their lighthearted treatment of death, however inadvertent this may be. I’m not sure I’d call ExTerminators offensive in this regard as it shows no signs of malicious intent, but the fact that it ultimately reflects no implied satire results in an unsettling, regressive depiction of females in general as anti-male goons. All the while, the comic acting is thoroughly unremarkable—Graham plays suppressed and nerdy, Coolidge indulges in her usual shtick, and Heard is barely noticeable—not supporting the black-humor and thereby making director Inwood and writer Suzanne Weinert’s core content miscalculations all the more pronounced. A failed attempt at the crime and comedy genres, ExTerminators ultimately doesn’t offer much to any viewer, no matter what type of movie they like. 1 Bucket out of 4.

The Bucket 'Blog

Box Office Predictions: Weekend of 10/1

Box Office Predictions: Weekend of 9/24

Box Office Predictions: Weekend of 9/17

Review: Resident Evil: Afterlife (2010) - 1 1/2 Buckets

Review: The American (2010) - 3 1/2 Buckets

Review: The Romantics (2010) - 1 1/2 Buckets

Box Office Predictions: Weekend of 9/10

Review: Get Low (2010) - 3 Buckets

Review: Going the Distance (2010) - 2 1/2 Buckets

Review: Machete (2010)

Box Office Predictions: Weekend of 9/3

Review: The Last Exorcism (2010) - 3 Buckets

Box Office Predictions: Weekend of 8/27

Box Office Predictions: Weekend of 8/20

Nanny McPhee Returns (2010) - 2 1/2 Buckets

Review: Salt (2010) - 3 Buckets

Review: Scott Pilgrim vs. the World (2010) - 3 Buckets

Box Office Predictions: Weekend of 8/13

Review: The Other Guys (2010) - 2 Buckets

Review: The Kids Are All Right (2010) - 3 1/2 Buckets

Review: Dinner for Schmucks (2010) - 2 Buckets

2010 Oscar Picks & Predictions **UPDATED WITH WINNERS**

Video Review: ALIENS IN THE ATTIC

BucketCast: Episode 24

BucketCast: Episode 23

BucketCast: Episode 22

BucketCast: Episode 21

BucketCast: Episode 20 (Video Edition)

2009 Los Angeles Film Festival: Day One

BucketCast: Episode 19

BucketCast: Episode 18

BucketCast: Episode 17

BucketCast: Episode 16

BucketCast: Episode 15

BucketCast: Episode 14

Sunday BucketCast Announcement

BucketCast: Episode 13

BucketCast: Episode 12

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BucketCast: Episode 10

BucketCast: Episode 9

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BucketCast: Episode 3

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SXSW 2009: Day Seven

SXSW 2009: Day Six

SXSW 2009: Day Five

SXSW 2009: Day Four

SXSW 2009: Day Three

SXSW 2009: Day Two

SXSW 2009: Day One

2010 Oscar Picks & Predictions UPDATED WITH WINNERS